y 


GEORGE 
CRAM 

COOK 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


opA-^      A_>*-« 


Jyu^ 


IN    HAMPTON    ROADS 


In  one  year  they  sent  a  million  fighters  forth 

South  and  North, 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

Earth's  returns 
For  whole  centuries  of  folly,  noise,  and  sin  ! 

Shut  them  in, 
With  their  triumphs  and  their  glories  and  the  rest  ! 

Love  is  best. 

—  Browning. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2010  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/inhamptonroadsdrOObank 


Waverley  Jlansion. 


IN 

HAMPTON 

ROADS 


A 

Dramatic    Romance 

BY 

CHARLES  EUGENE  BANKS 

AND 

GEORGE  CRAM  COOK 

Chicago  and  New  York: 
RAND,  McNALLY  &   COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS. 


Copyright,  1899,  by  Rand,  McNally  &  Co. 
All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Prologue  —  The  Birth  of  Ironclads,  ...  7 

Chapter  I  —  Waverley  Plantation,     .     .     .  ii 

II  —  Waterloo  Willis, 25 

III  —  Surprises, 46 

IV  —  A  Rescue, 57 

V  —  Von  Benzinger, 68 

VI  —  Hamilton, 75 

VII  —  The  Merrimac, 85 

VIII  — The  Mask, 93 

IX  —  The  Pilots, 105 

X  —  The  White  Slave, 124 

XI  —  The  Revelation, 139 

XII  —  Shut  In, 157 

XIII  — The  Fatal  Shot, 163 

XIV  —  The  Courtmartial, 177 

XV  —  The  Monitor, 192 

XVI  —  The  Duel  OF  Ironclads,  .     .     .  219 

XVII  —  The  Death  Warrant,  .     .     .     .  238 

XVIII  —  Martial  Law, 247 

XIX  —  Justice, 259 

XX  —  Secret  Service, 273 

Epilogue  — Union, 286 


7GS974 


DRAMATIS   PERSONS. 


Lieutenant  Earl  Hamilton,  U.  S.  N.,  stationed 
on  the  Frigate  Minnesota. 

Gen.  Hugo  von  Benzinger,  U.  S.  A.,  in  command 
of  a  brigade  stationed  near  Hampton  Roads. 

Captain  Geary,  )       r  j  ■      .    rr 

Lieutenant  Edwards,    f     -^  ■"' 

Waterloo  Willis,  of  the  Secret  Service. 

Captain  Lafe  Harlan,  C.  S.  A.,  commanding  a 
company  of  gnerrillas. 

Squire  Henderson,  a  planter,  in  reduced  circum- 
stances. 

Little  Joe,  a  dumb  ttegro  boy,  property  of  the 
Squire. 

Seth,  an  old  negro  servant  of  the  Egglcston  house- 
hold. 

Lieutenant  Worden,  commanding  the  Monitor. 

Lieutenant  Greene,    ) 

Mr.  Stimers,  >■    of  the  Monitor. 

Mr.  Webber,  ) 

Captain  Buchanan,  commanding  the  Merrimac. 

Major  Cuthbertson,  Brigade  Surgeon,  U.  S.A. 

Colonel  Middleton,  U.  S.  A.,  commanding  a  regi- 
ment at  Camp  Butler. 

Captain  Stanhope,  U.  S.  A.,  of  Colonel  Middleton' s 
command. 

Virginia  Eggleston,  daughter  of  Judge  Egglcston, 
of  Waverley  Plantation. 

Mrs.  Cora  Poynter,  Jier  foster  sister,  of  Washing- 
ton, D.  C. 

Estelle,  a  ivhite  slave. 

Black  Mammie,  of  the  Eggleston  household. 
Soldiers,  sailors,  civilians,  negroes,  etc. 

Scenes: — Waverley  Plantation,  overlooking  Hamp- 
ton Roads  —  Destruction  of  the  Union  fleet  in 
Hampton  Roads  —  On  board  the  Monitor  —  In- 
terior of  Waverley. 

Time  — March  8  and  9,  1862. 


IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


PROLOGUE. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  IRONCLADS. 

Sumter  had  fallen.  North  and  South  had  sprung 
to  arms.  In  Dixie  and  in  Yankeeland  thousands 
had  enlisted ;  regiment  after  regiment  had  been 
massed,  camped,  clothed,  drilled,  equipped,  organ- 
ized and  marched  away.  The  unexhausted  South 
was  pouring  out  her  undiminished  wealth.  High 
hope  of  victory  sat  on  her  banners,  which  shone 
now  with  the  luster  of  Manassas.  For  both  sides, 
however,  war  had  changed  from  a  romantic  oppor- 
tunity for  glory  to  a  grim  and  shattering  reality. 
Grant  on  the  Mississippi  was  hammering  at  the 
back  door  of  the  Confederacy.  McClellan  was 
making  a  real  army  out  of  the  disorganized  and 
routed  thousands,  who,  in  the  previous  June,  had 
blocked  the  roads  to  Washington.    He  had  already 


8  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

formed  in  his  mind  the  idea  of  the  pemnsular  cam- 
paign, which  looked  for  its  base  of  operations  to 
Hampton  Roads.  Here,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
James,  seventy  miles  below  Richmond,  was  Fort 
Monroe — the  cork  of  the  Confederate  bottle. 

The  Union  troops,  under  Major  General  Wool, 
held  the  fort  itself,  the  quaint  old  town  of  Hampton, 
and  a  strip  of  coast  eight  or  ten  miles  long,  extend- 
ing across  the  southern  extremity  of  the  peninsula 
from  the  mouth  of  the  York  River  to  the  mouth  of 
the  James,  where,  at  Newport  News  Point,  Federal 
batteries  commanded  the  river.  Eight  miles  north- 
west of  the  fort,  as  the  crow  flies,  were  the  Con- 
federate outposts,  whose  main  force,  commanded  by 
Magruder,  lay  from  ten  to  twenty  miles  back  in 
Yorktown  and  Williamsburg.  Confederate  in- 
trenchments  and  batteries  at  Big  Bethel,  Lee's  Mill, 
Howard's  Bridge,  Warwick  Courthouse  and  Ship's 
Point  commanded  every  coigne  of  vantage  on  the 
northbound  roads — the  roads  to  Richmond.  The 
southeastern  shore  of  Hampton  Roads,  the  south 
bank  of  the  James,  the  country  lying  all  about  Nor- 
folk, was  in  the  hands  of  the  Confederates.  Their 
lines  were  unbroken  from  Richmond  to  the  Sewall's 
Point  batteries,  which  fronted,  across  three  miles  of 
blue  water,  the  guns  of  Fort  Monroe.  The  waters 
of  the  great  roadstead,  where  the  warships  lie,  be- 


PROLOGUE.  9 

came  in  the  early  part  of  '62  the  focus  of  the  war, 
the  point  where  the  destinies  of  the  widespread, 
mighty  continent  were  to  be  decided. 

This  was  the  situation  on  Saturday  morning, 
March  eighth,  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two.  The 
sun  rose  on  an  unclouded  sky  and  shot  arrows  of 
silver  along  the  peaceful  waters  of  the  great  harbor, 
tipped  with  gold  the  masts  of  the  Union  frigates 
lying  under  the  protecting  guns  of  the  fort,  cast 
long  shadows  across  the  James  River  from  the  oaks 
that  lined  its  banks,  and  between  which  lay  the 
ships  of  the  Confederate  fleet  waiting  an  opportu- 
nity to  slip  out  to  sea,  and  fell  mqllow  and  warm 
along  the  gently  sloping  hills  of  Old  Virginia. 
Mating  birds  sang  or  chirruped  in  the  crabapple 
trees,  rich  with  blossoms  and  fragrant  with  per- 
fume. 

Back  from  the  shore,  upon  the  rising  ground, 
groups  of  negroes  armed  with  hoes  moved  lazily 
afield,  chanting  their  musical,  melancholy  rhymes. 
Over  toward  Norfolk,  fishermen  dipped  their  oars 
in  the  placid  waters,  or  drifted  idly  with  the  tide. 

The  morning  was  perfect.  The  ear  of  the  lis- 
tener heard  no  harsher  sounds  than  those  re- 
counted; the  eye  saw  no  more  disturbing  sights. 
Occasionally  the  mellow  notes  of  a  distant  bugle  in 
routine  call,  the  neighing  of  an  impatient  steed,  or 


10  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  droning  cry  of  a  weary  sentinel  suggested  the 
nearness  of  armed  and  hostile  forces — that  was  all. 
On  this  eventful  morning  the  most  important  point 
of  vantage  to  the  arms  of  both  the  Federal  and  Con- 
federate forces  was  as  peaceful  and  serene  ^s  though 
the  men  in  blue  and  the  men  in  butternut,  lying  on 
their  arms  along  each  side  of  Hampton  Roads,  had 
been  comrades  in  one  cause  as  well  as  brothers  in 
blood. 

The  same  sun  was  to  look  down  at  noon  upon 
this  pastoral  vale  and  quiet  sea  wrapped  in  the 
smoke  of  carnage  and  resounding  with  the  roar  of 
half  a  hundred  batteries.  It  was  to  set  upon  a  scene 
of  desolation  and  death,  of  wreck-strewn  waves 
dyed  red  with  the  blood  of  brave  Americans,  of 
sunken  ships  which  carried  with  them  into  troubled 
waters  the  hopes  of  half  the  people  of  the  most 
Christian  nation  of  the  earth. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  day  in  which  a  thought 
was  to  be  tested ;  in  which  a  nevv^  navy  was  to  be 
born. 

Today  the  Confederate  ram,  the  Merrimac,  the 
first  ironclad  ever  tried,  was  to  attack  the  Federal 
fleet.    The  sun  looked  on  and  made  no  sign. 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  11 


CHAPTER  I. 


WAVERLEY   PLANTATION. 

Virginia  Eggleston,  standing  on  the  gallery  of 
Waverley  mansion  overlooking  Hampton  Roads  on 
that  memorable  morning,  felt  something  of  the  im- 
pending tragedy  that  was  to  be  enacted  there.  Of 
the  Merrimac  she  knew  no  more  than  others  not 
in  the  secret  of  its  building.  Descriptions  of  this 
craft  had  been  so  many  and  conflicting  that  the  im- 
agination, quickened  by  the  sweeping  events  of  the 
time,  could  retain  no  more  than  their  most  striking 
features.  These  had  gradually  changed  and  shifted 
according  to  the  mind  or  temperament  of  the  in- 
dividual, so  that  both  at  the  North  and  the  South 
the  new  ship  was  as  mythical  as  the  ancient  dra- 
gon— all  the  more  terrible  because  of  the  mystery 
surrounding  it.  To  the  Confederates  it  held  out  a 
hope  for  instant  and  lasting  victory.  To  the  Fed- 
erals it  was  an  undefined,  intangible  force,  a  wild 
beast,  an  animal  of  unknown  dimensions,  crouching 


12  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

for  a  spring.  That  a  single  ship  could  live  for  a  mo- 
ment in  Hampton  Roads,  under  the  fire  of  the  guns 
of  the  whole  Union  fleet  and  of  the  shore  batteries, 
seemed  no  more  than  an  idle  boast.  That  such  a 
craft  could  sink  all  those  great  ships  and  sail  away 
unhurt  to  attack  and  burn  the  cities  along  the  New 
England  coast,  or  steam  up  the  Potomac  to  throw 
shells  into  the  Capitol  was  not  within  the  range  of 
possibilities.  Yet  all  these  things  were  prophesied, 
and  descriptions  of  an  iron  monster,  impervious  to 
shot  and  shell,  were  so  often  repeated  and  told  with 
such  an  air  of  knowing  secrecy  that  the  Merrimac 
became  to  the  authorities  at  Washington  a  strange, 
foreboding  spirit  of  evil,  an  intangible  shape  that 
would  not  be  banished  and  that  could  not  be  struck 
— the  Satan  of  the  Civil  War. 

The  Merrimac  had  been  building  for  nearly  a 
half  year  when  Ericsson  began  the  construction  of 
the  Monitor.  But  Ericsson's  plans  were  more  or 
less  familiar  and  his  engine  freely  discussed.  It 
was  known  to  be  little  larger  than  a  pleasure 
steamer;  and  what  could  such  a  toy  vessel  do 
against  the  dragon  of  the  South  whose  shape  and 
powers  had  been  multiplied  by  mysterious  rumors 
and  whispered  warnings  until  even  the  lightest 
mention  sent  terror  to  the  Federal  heart  ? 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  13 

"Mammie,"  said  Virginia  to  the  small,  compact, 
gray-headed  negro  woman  who  came  slowly  along 
the  gallery  from  behind  the  base  of  a  tower,  "Mam- 
mie,  do  you  know  which  ship  out  there  in  the 
Roads  is  the  Minnesota?" 

"Don'  know  nuffin'  'bout  de  Yankee  ships,  Miss 
Virginia,"  replied  the  woman,  placing  a  jar  of  roses 
upon  a  small  bench  in  the  shadow  of  the  climbing 
vines,  "  'ceptin'  I  hea  Marse  Harlan  say  las' 
evenin'  dat  de  one  ovah  dar  nearest  de  James  is 
de  Cumberlan'.  Mus'  be  one  o'  de  oders  I 
reckon.  What  yo'  want  to  know  'bout  dat  pa'tic- 
ula'  ship  fo',  chile?"  queried  the  black  woman, 
pushing  a  stray  lock  of  gray  wool  out  of  her  eyes 
and  looking  quizzically  at  her  mistress. 

"The  Minnesota  is  the  ship  to  which  Lieutenant 
Hamilton  has  been  assigned,  you  know,  Mammie." 

"  'Tenant  Hamilton !  You  mean  Earl  Hamilton, 
honey?" 

"Yes,  Mammie,  you  know  he  was  in  the  United 
States  navy  and  refused  to  go  out  with  other  South- 
erners at  the  beginning  of  the  war.  He  has  been 
stationed  at  Charleston,  but  I  learned  yesterday  he 
had  been  sent  to  Hampton  Roads  and  assigned  to 
the  Minnesota." 

"Datwhat  yo' anxious 'bout  dat  pa'ticular  ship  foh, 
honey!    Huh,  huh,"  said  the  old  negress,  bending 


14  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

down  to  straighten  up  a  budding  rose,  "I  know  jes' 
how  you  feel  'bout  it,  chile,  I  'members  when  yo' 
an'  Earl  Hamilton  an'  Lafe  Harlan  played  togeder 
in  dis  ole  house  day  in  an'  day  out — free  of  de  purt- 
iest  children  dat  de  sun  evah  shone  fo',  an'  de  hap- 
piest, too,  I  reckon."  The  old  woman  came  and 
stood  near  Virginia,  taking  hold  of  her  gown  with 
a  worshipful  touch. 

"I'm  sure  we  were,  Mammie.  But  the  war  has 
driven  us  in  so  many  different  directions  I  can 
hardly  realize  that  this  is  Waverley  or  that  we  are 
the  same  beings  you  loved  and  chided  in  those  dear 
old  days." 

"  'Deed  it  ain't,  honey,  an'  deed  yo'  ain't.  Wif 
Marse  Eggleston  ofT  dar  in  Richmond  tellin'  Gen'l 
Lee  how  ter  plan  fo'  ter  feed  de  soldiers,  Lafe  Har- 
lan in  hidin'  foh  bein'  a  spy  an  I  don'  know  what 
mo',  an'  yo'  all  heah  alone  wid  de  cares  o'  dis  plan- 
tation on  yo'  purty  shoulders,  an'  a  lot  o'  lazy  good- 
fo'-nuthin'  niggahs  worrying  yo'  life  out — 'tain't  the 
same  nohow.  An'  you  say  Earl  Hamilton  out  dar 
on  dat  Yankee  ship?  Huh!  One  of  dese  nights 
dis  yeah  Yerrimac  gwine  out  f'om  Norfolk,  an' 
open  its  big  mouf,  wiv  its  white  teef  longer'n  my 
arm  an'  biggah'n  de  gate  post  yonner,  and  bite  de 
Yankee  ships  in  two  in  de  middle,  and  swallo'  ev'ry 
man  on  de  decks,  an'  under  de  decks,  an'  dem  dat 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  IS 

has  climbed  in  de  riggin,'  an'  dem  dat  has  jumped  in 
de  watah  ter  save  deyseVes— jes  gwine  ter  roll  its 
big  eyes  o'  fiah  an'  open  its  monst'ous  jaws  an' 
swallo'  'em  one  after  anudder  jes  as  fast !" 

"Hush,  Mammie,"  cried  Virginia,  the  color  leav- 
ing her  cheeks  in  spite  of  an  attempt  to  laugh  at 
the  impossible  creature  the  superstitions  of  the 
negress  had  conjured  up.  "That  is  a  fate  too  cruel 
to  wish  even  our  Yankee  enemies." 

"Dat's  jes  what's  gwine  ter  happen,  honey. 
Eve'ybody  say  so,  and  moughty  soon  too,"  contin- 
ued Black  Mammie,  nodding  her  head  slowly  in 
the  direction  of  the  ships.  "I  hear  Cap'n  Harlan 
talking  to  Squire  Henderson  las'  night  when  dey 
drinkin'  min'  julep  an'  smokin'  in  the  lib'ary.  An 
dat's  what  he  say  gwine  ter  come  ter  pass,  shuah." 

"I  hope  it  won't  be  so  bad  as  that,  Mammie,  al- 
though I  should  rejoice  to  see  the  Yankees  driven 
from  this  part  of  the  country." 

"Does  that  prohibition  extend  to  me,  Virginia?" 
cried  a  tall,  well-formed  woman,  dressed  in  half 
mourning,  coming  from  the  house.  "If  it  does, 
I'll  go  and  begin  packing  at  once." 

"You  are  not  the  kind  of  Yankee  I  refer  to,  Cora, 
even  though  your  home  be  in  New  Jersey,  and  the 
field  of  your  triumphs  Washington." 


16  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  replied  the  widow  with  a 
musical  laugh.  "Happening  to  have  been  your 
father's  ward,  and  having  been  frequently  brought 
by  him  into  the  heart  of  rebeldom  before  I  was  old 
enough  to  have  any  very  clear  ideas  concerning  the 
affairs  of  state,  you  think  I  have  absorbed  enough 
of  your  doctrines  to  be  neutral.  Well,  your  judg- 
ment may  be  right  in  my  case,  but  I  fear  it  will  go 
wrong  when  it  comes  to  Earl  Hamilton.  My  op- 
portunities for  studying  men  have  been  better  than 
yours,  Virginia.  The  late  Senator  Poynter  was  not 
only  a  good  husband  but  a  helpful  teacher ;  he 
taught  me  how  to  distinguish  the  genuine  from  the 
false  article.  And  from  what  I  know  of  Earl  Ham- 
ilton he  is  a  man  of  pronounced  convictions.  He 
proved  it  by  refusing  to  follow  the  other  naval  of- 
ficers in  their  resignations  when  the  Sunny  South 
rebelled.  My,  what  a  speech  I  am  making,  and  on 
a  warm  morning,  too.  Mammie,  hand  me  a  chair 
and  a  fan." 

Mrs.  Poynter,  having  settled  herself  comfortably 
and  opened  the  fan,  began  again  to  chaflf  Virginia, 
who  still  stood  gazing  in  the  direction  of  the  ships. 

"My  dear,  do  you  see  putting  off  from  the  fleet 
a  boat,  in  which  is  Lieutenant  Earl  Hamilton,  of  his 
majesty  'Marse  Lincoln's'  ship,  the  Minnesota," 
cried  the  older  woman.     "Is  he  coming  to  reply 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  17 

in  person  to  a  communication  sent  him  by  the  con- 
scienceless rebel,  Virginia  Eggleston  of  Waverley 
plantation?  Because  if  you  do,"  she  went  on,  "it 
is  time  you  were  putting  your  tresses  into  the  hands 
of  Estelle,  so  that  you  may  be  made  presentable. 
Love  isn't  so  blind  as  he  is  painted,  my  dear,  and 
the  way  to  a  man's  heart  is  through  the  bowers  of 
beauty." 

"Cora,  I  believe  you  would  jest  in  the  presence  of 
President  Davis  himself,"  said  Virginia,  throwing 
a  swift  glance  in  Mrs.  Poynter's  direction,  and  then 
turning  again  to  the  sea. 

"Jest  in  the  presence  of  President  Davis !  The 
saints  forbid.  Why,  Virginia,  if  I  am  ever  so  for- 
tunate as  to  come  under  the  shadow  of  this  idol  of 
the  Confederacy,  I  shall  put  my  forehead  in  the 
dust  at  his  feet  and  cry  out — no,  no,  I  shan't  cry 
out,  because  if  I  did  I  should  get  my  mouth  full 
of  earth,  and  I  wouldn't  do  that  for  the  greatest 
man  that  ever  lived — not  even  Napoleon.  But 
really,  do  you  expect  Lieutenant  Hamilton  to  come 
here  today  ?" 

"You  are  curious,"  returned  Virginia,  nervously 
pulling  a  leaf  from  the  vine  above  her  head.  "If  I 
were  versed  in  the  arts  and  expressions  familiar  to 
those  who  have  mingled  in  the  society  of  the  cap- 
ital, perhaps  I  might  be  sure  of  a  personal  reply  to 


18  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

my  invitation.  Being  only  an  unsophisticated  Vir- 
ginia girl  whose  greatest  accomplishments  are  to 
ride  a  horse,  shoot  a  pistol,  and  know  tobacco  leaf 
from  a  yard  of  butternut,  I  shall  probably  fail." 

"Virginia,  my  dear,  you  are  getting  on  famous- 
ly," cried  Mrs.  Poynter,  applauding  with  her  fan ; 
"irony  is  becoming  in  you — it  certainly  is.  When 
these  bloodthirsty  men  get  tired  of  killing  each 
other  and  have  time  once  more  to  think  of  enter- 
taining a  woman,  I'll  bring  you  out  in  Washington 
and  create  a  sensation.  I  suppose  you  sent  the  letter 
you  were  writing  this  morning  at  an  hour  when 
any  human  being  not  distracted  with  love,  or  al- 
together insane,  would  have  been  too  sound  asleep 
even  to  dream." 

"Yes,  Cora,  I  sent  it  by  Seth,  and  here  he  comes. 
We  shall  hear  how  he  succeeded." 

An  aged  negro,  dressed  in  a  broadcloth  suit  that 
had  evidently  been  the  property  of  his  master,  his 
snow-white  locks  puffing  out  in  a  great  heap  at  the 
back  of  his  head,  his  face  shaded  by  a  broad- 
brimmed  manila  hat,  a  yellow  neckerchief  tied  neat- 
ly about  his  throat,  came  through  the  gate  in  the 
stone  wall  that  surrounded  the  grounds,  and  along 
the  winding  foot  path  that  led  up  to  the  house. 
Virginia  ran  down  the  steps  to  meet  him.  When 
she  approached  him,  Seth  took  ofif  his  somewhat 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  19 

worn  and  broken  manila  covering,  and  stood  with  it 
in  his  hand. 

"The  letter,  Seth.  What  did  you  do  with  it?" 
she  inquired  with  poorly  veiled  anxiety. 

"1  couldn'  gib  it  'zactly  ter  Marse  Hamilton, 
Miss  Virginia.  Dey  say  I  cayn't  come  'bo'd  de 
ship  'count  o'  o'dahs,  but  dey  took  de  lettah  up  ter 
de  deck  an'  say  dey'd  delibbah  it  when  he  come 
back." 

"Then  he  was  not  on  the  ship?" 

"Not  jes  at  de  time  I  was  dah,  Miss  Virginia.  A 
man  in  a  blue  cap  say  he  done  gone  ovah  ter  de 
fo't  but'll  be  back  'bout  ten  o'clock.  So  I  lef  de 
lettah  an'  come  away  like  you  tol'  me." 

"Very  well,  Seth.  Go  to  the  cellar,  get  a  bottle  of 
wine,  and  take  it  to  Sis  Tab  at  the  quarters,"  said 
Virginia,  turning  back  toward  the  house.  Then 
after  a  moment's  hesitation  she  continued,  "Stop  at 
the  stables  as  you  go  and  inquire  after  Bay  Nellie. 
She  strained  her  shoulder  taking  a  ditch  yesterday." 

"Yas,  Miss  Virginia,"  replied  the  negro,  with  a 
respectful  bob  of  his  snow-white  head. 

"Then,  when  you  return,  you  may  put  my  pistols 
in  order — the  brace  father  brought  to  me  from 
London.    I  may  want  to  do  some  target  practice." 

The  old  family  servant  went  away  on  his  errands, 
repeating  to  himself  the  virtues  of  his  mistress,  who 

2 


20  WAVERLEY  PLANTATION. 

never  neglected  the  poorest  slave  on  the  plantation 
in  sickness  or  trouble.  Virginia  returned  to  the 
gallery,  where  she  told  Mrs.  Poynter  of  Seth's  fail- 
ure to  deliver  the  letter  to  Hamilton  in  person,  but 
that  he  was  sure  to  receive  it  early  in  the  day,  and, 
should  he  respond  to  her  invitation,  might  be 
looked  for  at  almost  any  time. 

Mrs.  Poynter  listened  patiently  until  Virginia  had 
concluded,  when  she  said  with  mock  seriousness: 

"Virginia,  I  am  convinced  you  are  the  most 
shameless  coquette  alive.  You  know  Hamilton 
loves  you  to  distraction,  and  but  for  your  father's 
pledge  to  the  late  Judge  Harlan  that  you  should 
marry  his  son,  Lafe,  you  would  have  accepted  the 
Lieutenant  long  ago.  So  far  as  your  choice  of 
Hamilton  goes,  I  agree  with  you,  but  Captain  Har- 
lan is  here  now,  risking  his  neck  to  speak  to  you." 

"Am  I  to  be  blamed  for  that?"  interrupted  Vir- 
ginia. "Must  I  drive  from  the  house  a  man  related 
to  the  family — the  son  of  my  father's  life-long 
friend?  I  have  told  him  over  and  over  again  that 
I  cannot  love  him  in  that  way ;  I  can  do  no  more." 

"Yes  you  can,  or  rather  you  have." 

"In  what  way?" 

"Why,  Miss  Innocence,  you  have  invited  Lieu- 
tenant Hamilton,  Harlan's  dearest  rival,  to  come 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  21 

here  and  visit  you.  Now,  if  they  should  meet,  Vir- 
ginia !" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  exclaimed  Virginia  with 
sudden  apprehension. 

"Oh.  nothing  more  than  if  they  should  meet,  they 
will  probably  settle  their  differences  in  true  chival- 
ric  style,"  said  Mrs.  Poynter,  rising  and  striking  the 
attitude  of  a  fencer  preparing  for  encounter. 

"Surely  it  will  not  come  to  that."  Virginia  was 
pacing  up  and  down  the  gallery  in  great  agitation. 
"They  were  schoolmates  in  youth;  can  the  war 
have  so  changed  their  relations?" 

"Not  the  war,  Virginia.  When  two  men  love 
the  same  woman,  and  she  keeps  them  both  in 
doubt,  they  are  not  likely  to  read  poetry  in  con- 
cert." 

"Mrs.  Poynter,"  said  Virginia,  stopping  suddenly 
in  her  walk  and  speaking  with  great  earnestness. 
"There  is,  as  you  say,  danger  of  a  serious  quarrel 
should  Hamilton  and  Harlan  meet  in  this  house.  I 
feel  that.  But  what  I  have  done  I  would  not  undo 
if  I  could.  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  the 
Merrimac,  built  over  there  in  Norfolk,  the  ship 
which  all  the  South  believes  to  be  impregnable,  is 
preparing  to  attack  the  ships  in  Hampton  Roads. 
I  couldn't  rest  without  warning  Earl,  who  is  dear 
to  me  through  a  thousand  associations,  of  the  awful 


22  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

fate  that  awaits  him  if  he  remains  on  board  the 
Minnesota.  Besides,  he  is  a  Southerner,  born  and 
bred.    He  has  no  right  there." 

"You  are  wrong,  Virginia,  very  wrong,"  said 
Mrs.  Poynter,  rising  and  joining  her  foster  sister. 
"There,  dear,  don't  dispute  me.  If  Lieutenant 
Hamilton  were  here,  I  might  agree  with  you,  be- 
cause it  never  pays  to  admit  to  a  man  that  any 
woman  was  ever  wrong ;  but  between  ourselves, 
you  are  making  a  mistake.  Lieutenant  Hamilton 
is  a  man,  and — men  are  scarce — at  least  men  of 
Earl's  type.  Now  that  you  have  invited  him  to 
come  here  on  a  few  hours'  absence  that  he  can  beg, 
borrow  or  steal,  I  fear  you  are  going  to  mar  the 
time  with  arguments  concerning  the  rights  of  a 
sovereign  state  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  Tell  me  and 
tell  me  frankly  what  reception  you  will  accord  Lieu- 
tenant Hamilton  when  he  comes?  You  hesitate. 
Answer,  I  command  you !" 

While  Mrs.  Poynter  had  been  speaking,  Vir- 
ginia resumed  her  restless  walk  up  and  down  the 
gallery,  her  mind  disturbed  by  many  conflicting 
emotions.  In  her  heart  she  knew  she  loved  Earl 
Hamilton  above  all  else  in  the  world.  Uppermost 
in  her  mind  was  the  desire  to  see  him  and  to  warn 
him  of  his  danger.  And  yet  she  tried  to  convince 
herself  that  her  letter  was  inspired  by  a  desire  to 


WAVERLEY  PLANTATION.  23 

bring  Hamilton  to  Waverley,  where,  if  at  any  place, 
he  might  be  persuaded  to  abandon  the  Union  and 
cast  his  lot  with  the  South.  Her  patriotism  was 
great,  her  belief  in  the  right  of  the  Southern  states 
to  secede  from  the  Union  unshaken.  She  knew, 
too,  that  Hamilton's  patriotism  for  the  cause  he 
had  chosen  was  no  less  than  hers,  and  that  neither 
the  eloquent  pleadings  of  his  brother  officers  nor 
the  scorn  of  her  own  words  had  caused  him  to 
waver  from  the  course  he  had  taken.  While  he 
was  in  Charleston  and  no  immediate  danger  threat- 
ened him,  she  had  led  herself  to  believe  that  her 
faith  in  him  was  dead — that  love  for  her  country  had 
crowded  him  out  of  her  heart.  But  when  she 
learned  he  had  been  ordered  to  Hampton  Roads, 
and  that  he  was  to  be  stationed  on  board  one  of 
the  ships  marked  for  sure  destruction  by  the  Mer- 
rimac,  all  the  old  love  flamed  up  in  her  heart  with 
tenfold  more  power  than  before,  and  she  resolved  to 
sacrifice  pride  and  womanly  delicacy  in  an  attempt 
to  save  him.  When  she  wrote  the  letter  inviting 
him  to  Waverley  she  had  no  well-defined  plan  as 
to  her  course,  should  he  accept.  All  had  been  hazy, 
indistinct.  Something  she  would  do  to  keep  him 
with  her  till  the  danger  was  past.  Further  than 
that  she  had  no  definite  plan.  And  now,  when  Mrs. 
Poynter  asked  her  to  tell  directly  what  she  intended 


24  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

doing  upon  his  arrival,  she  found  herself  unable  to 
answer. 

"Come  to  my  room,  Cora,"  she  said  at  last.  "I 
will  try  to  tell  you  there." 

A  moment  later  the  gallery  was  deserted.  The 
sunbeams  crept  in  and  out  of  the  vine-shadowed 
nooks  and  crannies  of  the  rambling  old  house.  A 
robin  sang  in  a  wide-spreading  elm  down  by  the 
big  gate,  and  from  the  distant  quarters  stole  the 
words  of  a  negro  lullaby : 

Bye-bye,  ma'  honey,  twel  de  happy  mawin'; 

Bye-bye,   ma'   pickaninny   chile. 
Bye-bye,  ma'  honey,  twel  de  blessed  dawin'; 

Mammie  comin'  ter  yo'  arter  while. 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  25 


CHAPTER  11. 


WATERLOO  WILLIS. 

Seth  sat  in  a  shaded  corner  of  the  gallery,  the 
name  given  to  the  veranda  which  extended  around 
three  sides  of  the  house.  Along  the  walls  them- 
selves the  gallery  was  wide  and  roomy,  but  it  nar- 
rowed to  the  width  of  a  few  feet  where  it  ran 
around  the  bases  of  the  great  corner  towers.  There 
were  four  of  these,  built  solidly  into  the  walls,  rising 
several  feet  above  the  roof,  and  giving  to  the 
house  something  the  appearance  of  a  castle. 

From  his  sheltered  perch  in  the  niche  formed  by 
one  of  the  recesses  on  the  southeast  front  of  the 
building  Seth  commanded  a  view  of  Hampton 
Roads,  Newport  News,  Hampton,  and  Fort  Mon- 
roe. Far  across  the  Roads  and  straight  on  up  the 
Elizabeth  River,  of  which  the  mouth  was  just  vis- 
ible, were  the  Gosport  Navy  Yards,  near  Norfolk. 
In  the  channel,  a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  north 
shore,  lay  the  Union  fleet,  stretched  out  in  a  six- 


26  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

mile  line  from  Newport  News  to  the  fort.  The  sails 
of  all  the  ships  were  furled,  and  the  small  volumes 
of  smoke,  creeping  lazily  from  the  smokestacks  and 
drifting  away  on  the  still  air,  gave  evidence  of  a 
feeling  of  security  in  the  minds  of  commanders  and 
crews. 

"What  fo'  yo'  settin'  out  dar  starin'  at  nufifin' 
like  er  owl  in  de  noontime?"  said  black  Mammie, 
halting  in  the  doorway  with  her  hands  full  of  fresh 
mint.  "Didn'  I  heah  Miss  Virginia  tell  ye  ter  put 
her  pistols  in  o'dah  ?  Youse  gettin'  mighty  'digen- 
ous  in  yo'  ol'  age.  'Specs  putty  soon  we  haf  ter  call 
yo'  'Marse,'  same's  ef  yo'  was  white  an'  free,  which 
yo'  ain't,  nudder  de  one  nur  de  udder,  nur  gwine 
ter  be  nudder.  Huh,  better  go  on  'bout  yo'  work 
and  stop  yo'  nonsense,  Marse  Seth !  Golly,  but 
dat  do  soun'  scrumptuous !"  and  Mammie  chuckled 
so  hard  she  scattered  sprigs  of  the  pungent  herb 
all  about  her. 

Seth,  piqued  by  her  good-natured  sarcasm,  took 
one  of  the  ivory-mounted  pistols  from  its  case  at 
his  feet,  drew  a  piece  of  chamois  skin  from  his 
pocket,  and  began  to  polish  the  barrel  in  rather  a 
desultory  way. 

"What  fo'  yo'  go  on  dat-a-way,  Mammie?  Don' 
yo'  see  I'se  doin'  my  endeavorest.  An'  who  done 
tole  yo'  I'se  like  ter  be  free?"     The    old    negro 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  27 

paused  in  his  labor  to  squint  through  the  sights  of 
the  weapon. 

"Huh!  Nobody  don'  need  tell  me  what  I  done 
knows  myse'f,  yo'  ole  brack  fool.  Ain'  all  de  lazy 
niggahs  in  Virginia  thinkin'  'bout  gettin'  dah  free- 
dom an'  gwine  way  off  up  No'f  somewha'  an'  bein' 
rich  and  'spectable  an'  hev'en  white  folks  call  em 
Marse,  an'  all  such  foolsomenesses?  Mammie 
hain'  live  all  dese  yeahs,  a  'spectable  membah  ob  dis 
ole  Virginia  fambly,  'thout  knowin'  what's  gwine  on 
roun'  heah,  deed  she  ain't.  I  done  knows  de  nig- 
gahs bettah  dan  de  Lo'd  what  made  em,  an'  dey's 
all  good  fo'  nuthin'  loafums,  dat  dey  is,  an'  no  mo' 
fittin'  fo'  ter  be  free  dan  I  is,  huh !" 

"Yo'  been  lis'nen  ter  Estelle  talkin',  dat  who  yo' 
been  hs'nen  ter,  Mammie,"  replied  Seth.  "She  all 
time  say  dis  wa's  gwine  free  de  niggah.  What  he 
gwine  do  when  he  free,  dat's  wat  I  like  ter  know?" 
and  Seth  rested  from  his  labor  and  looked  inquir- 
ingly into  the  face  of  his  companion.  "When  I  wuz 
up  No'f  wi'  ole  Marse  Eggleston,"  he  continued, 
"I  done  seed  niggahs  an'  white  men,  too — wu'kin' 
mighty  sight  ha'dah  den  niggahs  ha'  ter  wu'k  on 
dis  plantation.  Ef  a  niggah's  got  ter  wu'k  when 
he  free,  whar's  de  use?  Huh,  whar  dat  Brack 
Mammie  gone?  She  dun  run  away  f'um  de  truf 
like  et  wuz  a  blacksnake,  he,  he." 


28  IN   HAMPTON   ROADS. 

While  Seth  was  delivering  this  bit  of  wisdom,  a 
man  came  from  behind  the  base  of  one  of  the  tow- 
ers and  stood  an  interested  listener.  The  new- 
comer was  rather  above  medium  height,  somewhat 
thin  of  body  and  long  of  leg.  His  face  was  smooth- 
shaven,  and  his  bright,  blue  eyes,  glancing  quickly 
over  the  premises,  seemed  to  fix  everything  on  the 
instant  in  his  mind.  He  was  dressed  in  a  well-worn 
suit  of  gray  cashmere,  supplemented  by  a  pair  of 
cavalry  riding  boots,  a  blue  flannel  shirt,  and  broad 
brimmed  gray  beaver  hat.  A  black  neckerchief  tied 
at  the  throat  in  a  loose  sailor  knot  completed  his 
attire. 

"Philosophy  doesn't  seem  to  observe  the  color 
line,  even  in  the  South,"  he  mused,  as  Seth  con- 
cluded. Then  addressing  the  negro  he  continued, 
"You  are  a  philosopher  born." 

Seth,  surprised  at  being  so  suddenly  recalled 
from  his  speculations  by  a  stranger,  and  only  par- 
tially comprehending  the  remark,  hastened  to  say: 

"No,  sah,  I'se  done  born  right  heah  at  Waverley, 
an'  hain'  nevah  sarved  nobody  but  jes'  Marse  Eg- 
gleston  an'  Miss  Virginia." 

The  stranger  laughed  quietly  at  Seth's  blunder 
and  said :  "All  right,  let  it  go  at  that.  If  you  are 
Miss  Eggleston's  servant,  you  will  drop  that  pretty 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  29 

shooting  iron  and  inform  her  that  a  friend  of  the 
family  is  waiting  for  an  interview." 

"Yas,  sah,  yas,  sah,"  said  the  negro,  nervously 
putting  the  pistols  in  the  case.  As  he  was  shufflng 
along  the  gallery  he  glanced  toward  the  gate,  and, 
halting  suddenly,  said  in  a  tone  of  relief,  "Huh,  ef 
dah  don'  come  Marse  Henderson,  shuah." 

"Henderson?  Who's  he?"  demanded  the 
stranger. 

"A  Southern  gen'man,  sah,  an'  moughty  'sturbed 
'bout  de  'fee'  ob  dis  wa'  on  his  prop'ty." 

"A  large  property  owner,  I  presume?"  said  the 
stranger,  mounting  the  steps  and  leaning  easily 
against  the  base  of  the  tower  where  he  would  be 
invisible  to  a  person  coming  up  the  path. 

"Used  ter  be,  sah,  but  he  grow  bosses  an'  run 
em  in  de  races,  an'  I  hear  ole  Marse  Eggleston  say 
he  done  lose  heap  o'  money  in  New  Cleans,  in  dem 
cotton  specellatums.  Mus'  been  de  truf,  fo'  all  de 
prop'ty  he  got  lef  's  one  little  dumb  niggah  boy, 
Joe." 

"And  he's  afraid  this  remnant  of  a  fortune  is  to 
be  taken  fiom  him  by  the  war?    I  see !" 

"Dat's  jes'  it,  sah.  Nebbah  lets  dat  boy  outen  his 
sight,  and  alius  say  in'  he  gwine  ter  horsewhip  him, 
but  he  nebbah  done  tech  him  in  dat  way,  kase  he 
think  mo'  o'  dat  useless  runt  o'  a  niggah  dan  Miss 


30  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Virginia  do  o'  her  Bay  Nellie,  an'  dey  ain't  nuffin' 
mo'  sacrifyin'  dan  dat,  sah." 

While  Seth  was  speaking,  a  slender  little  negro 
boy,  perhaps  ten  years  of  age,  came  through  the 
gate.  Glancing  backward,  first  over  one  shoulder 
and  then  the  other,  like  a  pet  animal  seeking  assur- 
ance of  his  master,  he  trotted  up  the  path  toward 
the  house.  He  was  followed  a  moment  later  by  a 
short,  rather  stout  man,  dressed  in  a  bleached  linen 
suit,  patent  leather  shoes,  and  a  broad-brimmed 
white  hat.  His  hair  was  rather  long  and  curled 
upward  where  it  fell  upon  his  rolling  shirt  collar, 
but  when  he  removed  his  hat  and  mopped  his  brow 
with  a  red  bandanna,  drawn  with  a  flourish  from  an 
inside  pocket  of  his  coat,  the  dome  of  his  head  rose 
bare  and  polished  above  the  gray-brown  locks  that 
grew  no  higher  than  the  level'  of  his  ears.  He  car- 
ried a  gold-mounted,  ebony  cane,  and  in  walking 
raised  himself  on  his  toes  with  the  air  of  one  who 
controlled  large  possessions  and  held  an  assured  po- 
sition in  the  world. 

"Maw'nin'  Seth,"  he  said,  stopping  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  house  and  surveying  the  premises 
with  an  air  of  ownership.  "Don'  reckon  the  ladies 
are  stirrin'  yet?" 

"Deed  dey  is,"  replied  the  negro,  "Miss  Virginia 
done  been  out  heah  on  de  gallery  evah  since  befo' 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  31 

daybreak.  Went  up  stairs,  her  an'  Miss  Poynter, 
sho't  time  ago,  sah,  an'  I  hain'  done  seed  'em  since. 
I'll  look  fo'  'em,  sah." 

"Don't  disturb  the  ladies ;  they  may  be  at  break- 
fast— hah!  Come  heah,  Joe!"  The  Squire  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  man  on  the  gallery,  and 
instantly  his  manner  changed.  The  air  of  pompous 
security  gave  way  to  a  mixture  of  anxiety,  entreaty, 
challenge  and  demand.  Keeping  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  stranger,  he  swept  out  his  cane  with  the  gesture 
of  a  bHnd  man  and  called  again,  with  more  affection 
than  command,  "Come  heah,  Joe !" 

"Squire  Henderson,  I  believe,"  said  the  stranger, 
coming  forward  with  an  air  of  easy  familiarity  from 
the  shadow  of  the  tower.  "Glad  to  see  you.  Have 
a  seegar?"  As  he  spoke,  he  plunged  his  hand  into 
a  side  pocket  of  his  coat  and  brought  up  a  handful 
of  Havanas. 

"Yo'  name,  sah!"  demanded  the  Squire  with 
great  dignity,  ignoring  the  proffered  peace  offering, 

"Waterloo  Willis,  of  Washington,"  replied  the 
Yankee,  striking  a  match  and  coolly  lighting  a 
cigar.  War  correspondent  of  the  Washington  In- 
telHgencer." 

"Yo'  wah,  sah,  is  a  damnable  outrage,  and  a 
menace  to  the  rights  o'  property  guaranteed  by 
the  constitution,  sah.    Come  heah,  Joe." 


32  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

The  closing  sentence  was  made  not  as  a  demand, 
but  as  a  fitting  close  to  his  protest.  Although  the 
Squire  did  not  realize  it,  except  in  a  vague,  shadowy 
way,  this  small,  dumb,  black  creature  represented 
the  negro  property  of  all  the  South,  and  his  fre- 
quent requests  to  the  darky  to  keep  near  him  were, 
in  some  measure,  the  expression  of  the  old  masters' 
feeling  toward  their  chattels.  It  gave  one  a  glimpse 
of  the  animal  affection  which  existed  between  the 
two  racfes. 

"Don't  get  excited,"  said  the  correspondent,  lazi- 
ly puffing  smoke  into  the  vines.  "I  assure  you,  Mr. 
Henderson — " 

"Squire  Henderson,  if  yo'  please,  sah!"  inter- 
rupted the  Southerner,  drawing  himself  up  to  his 
full  height. 

"'Beg  pardon.  Squire.  I'm  new  in  these  parts 
and  have  lots  to  learn.  I  was  going  to  say  that 
your  property  is  in  no  danger  from  me.  I  come 
here  with  the  most  friendly  intentions,  I  assure 
you." 

"Friendship  is  a  holy  word,  sah,  as  Sir  Walter 
Scott  has  said,  at  least  in  the  South,  sah,"  said  the 
Squire,  suddenly  relaxing.  "Have  you  seen  Miss 
Virginia?" 

"Not  yet.     I  only  arrived  a  few  moments  ago, 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  3X 

and  was  just  sending  a  request  for  an  interview 
when  you  came  up." 

"Then,  sah,"  said  the  Squire,  offering  his  hand 
with  a  great  show  of  cordiality,  "I  give  you  wel- 
come to  Waverley." 

"Obliged  to  you,"  said  WilHs,  once  more  diving 
into  his  pockets.    "Have  a  seegar  ?" 

"I  nevah  smoke  befo'  eveninV  said  the  Squire, 
"but  I'll  accept  the  tobacco  in  the  spirit  in  which  it 
is  offered,  sah,  for  I  perceive  that  yo'  are  a  gentle- 
man, sah." 

"You're  a  man  of  keen  perceptions,  that's  clear. 
Squire,"  Willis  drawled,  shoving  his  hands  into 
his  trouser  pockets.  Then  standing  with  his  feet 
wide  apart  he  noted  the  peculiar  architecture  of  the 
house.  "Quaint  conceit,  Squire,"  he  observed.  "A 
mediaeval  structure  in  the  youngest  of  nations  ;  rare 
combination." 

"The  house  was  built  by  Judge  Eggleston  as  a 
so't  o'  monument  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  his  favorite 
author.  Got  the  idea  out  of  Ivanhoe,  I  believe, 
sah." 

At  this  moment  a  voice  in  one  of  the  interior 
rooms  was  heard  singing  those  sweetly  sad  words 
of  the  Scotch  poet : 

Ye  banks  an'  braes  o'  bonnie  Doon, 

How  can  ye  bloom  sae  fresh  an'  fair? 

How  can  ye  sing,  ye  little  birds. 
An'  I  sae  weary,  fu'  o'  care? 


34  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"The  spirit  of  Bobbie  Burns  seems  to  have  taken 
possession  of  the  monument  to  Sir  Walter,  Squire. 
By  Jimtown,  what  a  pretty  girl !" 

This  expression  of  surprise,  uttered  in  an  under- 
tone, was  occasioned  by  the  appearance  of  a  girl 
of  fifteen  or  sixteen  years.  She  came  tripping 
through  the  door  and  ran  down  the  steps  into  the 
garden,  before  she  was  aware  of  the  presence  of 
anyone  save  herself.  A  small,  dark  creature,  with 
clear,  olive  complexion  and  big  black  eyes,  like 
those  of  an  animal,  deep  and  splendid,  but  waiting 
only  a  touch  to  blaze  with  anger  or  melt  with  af- 
fection. Her  rather  tightly  curling  hair  was  sur- 
mounted by  a  tiny  red  cap.  She  wore  a  simple 
gown  of  plain  brown  muslin,  cut  low  in  the  neck, 
and  displaying  a  pair  of  round,  dimpled  shoulders 
and  short  but  shapely  throat.  As  she  reached  the 
lower  step  leading  to  the  gallery,  she  paused  sud- 
denly, seeing  the  stranger,  and  stood  a  moment  ir- 
resolute. 

"Is  it  tiger  or  fawn?"  was  Willis'  mental  ques- 
tion. 

"Maw'nin'  Estelle,"  said  the  Squire,  with  a  cer- 
tain tone  of  familiarity,  never  used  in  the  South  to 
women  of  pure  American  blood.  "Yo'  are  musical 
as  a  mocking  bird  at  midnight." 

The  girl  stood  for  a  moment,  looking  from  one 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  35 

to  the  other  of  the  persons  in  the  Httle  group. 
Then,  throwing  a  hasty  glance  into  the  shrubbery 
and  down  the  narrow  path  that  led  toward  the 
James  River,  she  turned  suddenly,  ran  up  the  steps, 
and,  bending  above  one  of  the  potted  plants  that 
stood  in  rows  along  the  gallery,  said,  with  a  ner- 
vous trill  in  her  voice : 

"Who  could  help  singing,  with  all  these  sun- 
beams laughing  in  the  arms  of  the  roses  ?" 

"Poetry,  by  Jimtown,"  said  Willis. 

"The  picture  would  be  perfect,  sah,  as  she  has 
so  eloquently  painted  it,  were  it  not  fo'  yo'  Yankee 
encroachments  on  the  rights  of  property,"  pro- 
claimed the  Squire ;  then,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, he  called,  "Come  heah,  Joe." 

"Property,  Squire?"  said  Willis,  jerking  his  head 
in  the  direction  of  Joe,  who  stood  quietly  near  the 
Squire. 

"Yes,  sah,  property,  according  to  the  constitu- 
tion as  fo'mulated  by  that  distinguished  Virginian, 
George  Washington,"  declaimed  the  old  South- 
erner with  a  pompous  wave  of  the  hand. 

Willis  laughed  softly,  and  Estelle,  coming  down 
the  steps,  approached  him  timidly  and  said : 

"Are  yo'  all  a  Yankee  soldier,  sah  ?" 

"A  soldier  of  the  pen,  not  of  the  sword,  Miss 
Estelle,"  replied  Willis. 

8 


36  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

The  girl  flushed  at  being  addressed  in  this  fash- 
ion. Pretty  and  intelHgent  as  she  was,  and  free  to 
go  and  come  as  any  member  of  the  household,  yet 
the  slightly  flattened  nostrils,  the  deep,  dark  eyes, 
wide  and  full,  the  low  brow,  and  the  quick  waves  in 
her  black  hair  raised  the  barrier  of  caste  and  made 
her  slave.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  had 
been  addressed  as  "Miss,"  and  the  new  dignity  sent 
the  blood  to  her  brain  and  lighted  a  new  fire  in  her 
eyes. 

"It's  tiger,"  was  the  correspondent's  mental  note. 

"Estelle  is  Miss  Virginia's — h'm,  Miss  Virginia's 
waiting  maid,  sah,"  said  the  Squire,  endeavoring 
to  correct,  without  offending  the  girl,  the  mistake 
WilHs  had  made.  "Mr.  Willis  is  only  a  newspaper 
co'respondent,  Estelle." 

"Correct  as  type.  Squire,"  drawled  Willis.  "Only 
a  newspaper  correspondent,  who  gathers  facts  for 
some  dull  plodder  to  compile  into  a  big  book  and 
sign  himself  historian." 

"And  the  prejudices  of  the  co'respondent  make 
histories  very  unreliable  affairs,  sah." 

"The  honest  correspondent.  Squire,  looks  impar- 
tially at  all  sides  of  all  things,  wars  included." 

"Fo'  a  newspaper  co'respondent  yo'  position  is 
admirable,  sah,"  answered  the  Squire,  turning  to 
lay  his  hand  on  the  head  of  his  dumb  slave,  "but  fo' 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  37 

a  man  whose  property  is  in  dangah  of  bein'  confis- 
cated it  is  untenable,  sah,  untenable." 

Having  delivered  this  sonorous  sentence,  he  gave 
an  oratorical  flourish ;  and  drawing  a  newspaper 
from  his  pocket,  began  to  scan  its  pages.  Estelle, 
who,  at  a  little  distance,  had  been  talking  to  Seth, 
now  came  up,  and  addressing  Willis,  said : 

"But  you  all  are  with  the  Yankee  army !" 

"With  it,  but  not  of  it,"  replied  the  correspond- 
ent, somewhat  at  a  loss  just  how  to  address  her. 

"And  the  real  soldiers?"  inquired  the  girl,  with 
an  air  of  anxiety. 

"Oh,  they're  all  about  here.  I  passed  a  brigade 
patrol  of  Von  Benzinger's  command  on  my  way  up. 
They  seem  to  be  on  the  scent  of  something.  Some 
poor  devil  of  a  spy,  I  suppose." 

"Another  encroachment  on  the  rights  of  prop- 
e'ty,"  said  the  Squire,  crushing  the  paper  in  his 
hand  and  glaring  at  Willis.    " Whar's  Joe  ?" 

"Well,  I  reckon  we  all  don'  need  to  be  afeared 
as  long  as  yo'  are  heah  to  protect  us.  Squire,"  said 
Estelle,  with  an  attempt  at  merriment.  Her  ner- 
vousness, however,  had  increased  greatly  when 
Willis  mentioned  the  patrol.  "What's  yo'  paper, 
Squire  ?" 

"Richmond  Whig.  I  got  it  ovah  to  Little  Bethel 
this  mo'nin'.     According  to   the  print   heah,   our 


38  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

soldiers  are  driving  in  the  Yanks  all  along  the  line." 

"Bettah  go  ovah  to  the  shady  side  o'  the  gallery 
if  yo'  goin'  to  read,  Squire ;  and  take  Mistah  WilHs 
along.  There's  fresh  mint  on  the  sidebo'd,"  she 
added,  seeing  the  Squire  linger. 

Henderson  folded  the  paper  rather  hastily  after 
this  remark,  and  turning  to  Willis,  said : 

"Mighty  pleasant  mixture,  mint  julep,  an'  one 
indigenous  to  the  South,  sah.    Will  you  join  me  ?" 

"My  prejudices,  if  I  have  any,  do  not  extend  to 
mint  julep,  especially  after  a  dusty  walk  on  a  hot 
morning.  And  besides,"  he  added,  following  the 
Squire  up  the  steps,  "a.  late  Richmond  paper  may 
prove  interesting." 

As  soon  as  the  Squire  and  Willis  were  well  within 
the  house,  Estelle  ran  across  the  lawn  to  the  path 
that  led  through  the  woods  toward  the  James,  and 
called  softly,  "Lafe !  Lafe !"  Getting  no  response, 
she  came  back  slowly  across  the  lawn,  peering 
into  the  shrubbery  on  every  hand.  Seth  put  away 
the  pistols  he  had  been  cleaning,  and  with  the  case 
under  his  arm  started  around  the  house. 

"What  you  doin'  with  Virginia's  pistols,"  said 
Estelle,  halting  in  front  of  him. 

"Cleanin'  'em,  'cordin'  to  Miss  Virginia's  o'dahs," 
said  Seth. 

"What's  she  going  to  do  with  'em?" 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  39 

"Shoot  'em  at  a  target,  dat's  what  she  say,  but 
cayn't  tell  what  may  happin  wid  all  dese  Yankee 
so'dgers  ridin'  deah  hosses  ober  de  plantation." 

"I  don't  see  why  men  should  go  to  wah,"  s^id 
Estelle  with  a  perceptible  shiver. 

"Moughty  cu'ious  wo'ld,  Estelle,  moughty  cu'- 
ious,"  said  the  old  negro,  putting  the  pistol  case  on 
a  garden  bench  and  sweeping  the  air  with  both  arms 
at  once.  "Men  readin'  de  good  Book,  preachin' 
brudderly  lub,  an'  all  de  time  'ventin'  machines  ter 
kill  each  odder  wid.  Good  Book  say,  man  mus'  wu'k 
an'  he  mus'n'  fight.  Niggahs  all  de  time  tryin'  ter 
get  away  f'um  wu'k,  an'  white  man  killin'  each  odder 
f'um  Washington  ter  Richmon'.  Seems  like  dey 
got  de  good  Book  turn'  bottom-side  up,  like  a 
skeered  possum  in  a  tree  top.  Ef  dis  heah  wa'  don' 
stop  mighty  sudden  somfin'  gwine  drap  shuah." 

Having  unburdened  his  mind,  Seth  took  up  the 
pistols  and  continued  on  his  way.  When  he  was 
gone,  Estelle  threw  herself  into  a  garden  seat  and 
began  in  a  low  sweet  tone  to  sing  again,  "Ye  Banks 
an'  Braes  o'  Bonnie  Doon."  Something  in  the  mel- 
ancholy words  and  music  seemed  to  give  expres- 
sion to  her  own  thoughts.  All  morning  she  had 
felt  a  presage  of  danger,  and  when  she  came  into  the 
yard  it  had  been  with  the  hope  of  finding  Harlan 
and  confiding  to  him  her  feelings.     She  knew  he 


40  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

was  in  hiding,  a  Confederate  guerilla  captain,  and 
the  danger,  whatever  it  was,  seemed  to  threaten 
him.  To  her  simple  mind  this  dashing  Southerner, 
with  his  free  ways  and  devil-may-care  manners,  was 
little  less  than  a  god.  She  knew  better  than  anyone 
could  tell  her  the  gulf  that  divided  them,  the  dark 
shadow  that  shut  her  out  from  all  worth  while  in 
life  to  her — the  love  and  protection  of  a  free  man. 
She  hated  her  own  race,  because  they  appeared  will- 
ing to  bear  the  yoke  of  serfdom.  Equal  compan- 
ionship with  white  people  of  the  better  class  was 
denied  her.  And  so,  to  this  wild,  reckless  man,  who 
had  complimented  her  beauty  and  sat  with  her  in 
the  shadows,  she  had  readily  given  her  heart.  If  the 
North  should  triumph  in  the  war,  they  told  her 
slavery  would  cease,  and  although  she  could  not 
but  feel  a  certain  prejudice  toward  the  men  who 
were  invading  the  country  of  which  she  was,  in  a 
way,  a  part,  yet  her  blood  thrilled  at  the  sound  of 
the  bugle  notes  from  the  white  tents  over  at  New- 
port News,  and  the  sound  of  drums  in  the  camps 
of  the  Yankees  stirred  her  soul  to  dreams  she  dared 
not  name,  but  from  which  Captain  Harlan  was 
never  absent. 

"Aren't  you  getting  the  words  of  that  song  a  lit- 
tle tangled,  Estelle  ?"  said  a  voice  behind  her. 

"Oh,  Cap'n  Harlan,  whar  have  you  been?     I've 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  41 

searched  everywhere  for  you,"  cried  the  girl,  spring- 
ing up  and  running  to  meet  him. 

"What's  happened  now?"  demanded  Harlan,  ig- 
noring the  tender  look  in  her  eyes.  "Are  the  Yanks 
up  to  any  new  tricks?" 

"There's  a  man  in  the  house  just  over  from  the 
Union  lines  who  says  he  saw  a  lot  of  soldiers  rid- 
ing this  way,  and  they  seemed  to  be  searching  for 
someone.  I  saw  'em  myself  from  a  window  in  the 
tower  before  he  told  me,  and  was  coming  to  tell 
you  about  'em,  when  I  found  him  here,  talking  to 
Squire  Henderson.  The  stranger  told  us  they  were 
a  brigade  patrol  of  Von  Benzinger's  command." 

"Who's  the  stranger?"  demanded  Harlan,  fierce- 

"Only  a  newspaper  correspondent.  You  needn't 
be  afeared  o'  him,  I  reckon." 

"I  ain't  afeard  o'  any  man,"  said  the  guerilla,  giv- 
ing his  long,  black  hair  a  scornful  toss,  "but  a  pa- 
trol o'  bluecoats  is  different.    Whar's  Virginia?" 

"In  the  house  with  Mrs.  Poynter,"  replied  the 
girl,  her  face  darkening. 

"I  must  see  her.  Run  and  tell  her  I'm  going 
away,  and  ask  her  to  come  to  the  sitting-room  at 
once." 

"I  won't,"  cried  the  girl,  with  a  sudden  lifting  of 
the  shoulders  and  a  saucy  toss  of  the  head. 


42  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"What's  that?"  said  Harlan,  facing  her,  his  cruel 
lips  drawing  back  from  his  white  teeth  and  a  dark 
Hne  growing  between  his  brows. 

The  girl  struggled  to  keep  hold  of  the  bit  of  in- 
dependence which  at  his  command  she  had  seized, 
but  she  felt  it  slipping  away,  and  knew  that  in  the 
end  she  must  do  his  bidding.  The  pledge  of  Judge 
Eggleston  to  Harlan's  father  had  never  been  a  se- 
cret in  the  household,  and  Estelle  knew  the  story 
by  heart.  She  knew  that  Virginia  respected  her 
father's  wishes,  and  would  not  openly  rebel  against 
them.  She  knew  also  that  Virginia  lived  in  hopes 
of  bringing  him  to  consent  to  cancel  the  contract 
when  he  was  convinced  that  such  a  union  would 
bring  her  nothing  but  unhappiness.  Knowing  this, 
and  with  the  vision  of  freedom  before  her,  Estelle 
clung  to  the  little  ray  of  hope  born  of  her  love.  But 
struggle  as  she  might,  the  power  of  Harlan  over  her 
was  not  to  be  denied. 

'T'd  do  mos'  anything  fo'  yo',  Lafe,"  she  said, 
with  all  the  determination  she  could  summon. 
"Haven't  I  proved  it  ?  But  if  you  want  to  see  Miss 
Virginia,  yo'  mus'  go  fo'  her  yo'self!" 

"And  be  captured  by  the  patrol  because  of  your 
damned  obstinacy.    Very  well." 

"I'll  go,  Lafe,  I'll  go,"  cried  the  girl,  seizing  his 
arm  in  a  tremor  of  terror,    "But  if  you've  tol'  me 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  43 

the  truth,  if  yo'  care  fo'  me,  why  should  yo'  always 
be  runnin'  after  Miss  Virginia?" 

"This  is  no  time  for  talking  nonsense,  Estelle," 
said  Harlan,  roughly  shaking  himself  free.  "My 
life's  in  danger  and  I  must  see  Virginia." 

"Forgive  me,  Lafe.  I'll  find  her  right  away  and 
tell  her  what  you  say."  The  octoroon  ran  up  the 
steps  and  into  the  house,  pausing  in  the  doorway 
to  throw  him  a  pleading  look. 

"I  must  get  rid  o'  her  somehow,"  muttered  the 
guerrilla,  when  she  had  disappeared  in  the  shadow. 
"A  jealous  woman  is  not  to  be  trusted.  If  it  were 
not  for  this  cursed  Hamilton" — he  started,  suddenly, 
and  drew  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  as  a  man  appeared 
in  the  doorway.  "His  friend!  Willis!"  he  cried, 
starting  back  and  laying  his  hand  to  his  pistol. 

"Correct  as  to  both  charges,"  said  Willis,  com- 
ing quickly  into  the  garden  and  stopping  close  to 
Harlan.  "Hamilton's  friend — Willis  of  Washing- 
ton. Your  memory's  good  and  you  reason  like  a 
lawyer."  With  this,  the  correspondent  puffed  a 
huge  cloud  of  smoke  into  the  air,  shoved  his  hands 
deep  into  his  pockets,  and  with  his  feet  wide  apart 
stood  looking  Harlan  square  between  the  eyes. 

"What  do  you  want  here?"  demanded  Harlan, 
doggedly. 

"News,"  replied  the  correspondent,  puffing  stead- 


44  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ily  at  his  cigar,  "and  I've  got  it.  Your  friend, 
Squire  Henderson,  kindly  loaned  me  his  Richmond 
paper.  I  ran  across  a  paragraph  which  sai'd  that 
the  Confederate  States  of  America  would  give  a 
large  reward  for  one  Lafe  Harlan,  who  is  in  the 
pay  of  the  Yankees.  Outside  of  Hamilton,  I'm 
the  only  man  that  knows  of  your  former  treachery 
to  the  Union.  You  have  successfully  played  false 
to  both  sides." 

"Devil !"  snarled  Harlan,  half  drawing  his  pistol. 

"Keep  your  ammunition.  You  may  need  it  more, 
later  on,"  said  Willis.    "What  about  this  reward?" 

"It's  a  lie,"  muttered  Harlan,  "a  damned  Yankee 
lie!" 

"A  Yankee  lie,  in  a  Richmond  paper !  Possible, 
but  not  probable." 

"What  use  will  you  make  of  it  ?" 

"Show  it  to  Miss  Eggleston,"  said  Willis,  blow- 
ing a  cloud  of  smoke  in  Harlan's  direction. 

"I  see  your  game,"  Harlan  growled.  "You  want 
me  to  leave  here  so  that  your  friend  Hamilton — " 

"Are  you  going?"  said  Willis,  moving  a  step 
nearer. 

"Yes.  You  hold  the  best  hand  while  you  keep 
that  paper.  You  will  use  it  against  me  to  help  Ham- 
ilton with  Virginia." 

"Not  if  you  go  away." 


standing  in  tlie  doorway,  lool^ing  straiglit  at  him,       * 


was  Estelle. 


WATERLOO  WILLIS.  45 

"For  the  present,  I'll  go.  But  I'll  win  against 
you  both  yet.  When  you  meet  Hamilton,  give  him 
my  regards  and  tell  him  I'll  watch  for  a  chance  to 
pay  'em  in  person." 

Harlan  disappeared  through  the  stone  archway 
that  led  to  the  stables.  When  he  had  gone,  Willis 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  pufifed  a  cloud  of 
smoke  into  the  air,  and  watched  it  slowly  dissolve. 
"The  scoundrel  is  not  lacking  in  wit,"  he  mused. 
"He  guessed  what  use  I'd  make  of  the  news.  Well, 
Cap'n  Harlan,  unless  I'm  greatly  mistaken  in  the 
temper  of  Miss  Eggleston,  you're  done  for  in  that 
quarter.  She's  a  rebel  to  the  last  comma,  but 
straight  as  sunshine.  If  you  stay  here,  she  shall 
know  you  have  proved  traitor  to  both  sides." 

WiUis  turned  to  re-enter  the  house.  Standing  in 
the  doorway,  looking  straight  at  him  out  of  her 
big,  black  eyes,  was  Estelle.  And  in  her  hand  she 
held  the  Richmond  paper. 


46  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


SURPRISES. 

When  Willis  saw  the  paper,  so  important  to  his 
plans,  in  the  hands  of  Estelle,  he  felt  a  thrill  of  ap- 
prehension new  to  him.  But  long  service  on  a  met- 
ropolitan newspaper  had  taught  him  that  coolness 
and  self-possession  were  a  man's  friends  in  a  crisis, 
so  he  merely  puffed  a  little  harder  at  his  cigar  and 
moved  leisurely  toward  the  house.  In  mounting  the 
steps,  a  sudden  noise  in  the  distance  attracted  his 
attention.  He  glanced  over  his  shoulder.  When 
he  turned  again  to  the  house,  Estelle  had  vanished. 

"The  little  minx,  what  can  she  be  up  to  ?"  solilo- 
quized Willis.  "Richmond  papers  are  scarce.  If 
she  has  reasons  for  keeping  Harlan  in  Virginia's 
good  graces,  she  may  destroy  this  one.  I  was  a 
dunce  to  lay  it  down.  I  wonder  if  she  overheard 
the  little  colloquy  I  had  with  this  picturesque  ban- 
dit ?  If  she  did  she  must  have  a  pretty  fair  concep- 
tion of  his  character." 


SURPRISES.  47 

"Ah,  sah,  I  missed  yo',"  said  the  Squire,  appear- 
ing in  the  doorway.  "Fo'  a  newspaper  co'respond- 
ent  yo'  education,  so  far  as  mint  juleps  are  con- 
cerned, sah,  seems  to  have  been  neglected.  Yo' 
left  a  large  part  of  the  delicious  decoction  in  yo' 
glass,  sah." 

"Mr.  Willis !"  cried  a  merry  voice  from  the  hall- 
way. "Do  let  me  pass,  Squire.  I  am  sure  it  can  be 
no  other  than  my  old  Washington  friend.  Why  to 
be  sure  it  is,"  cried  Mrs.  Poynter,  pushing  by  the 
Squire  and  extending  her  hand.  "How  do  you  do, 
Waterloo?  Welcome  to  Waverley!  Why  didn't 
you  send  word  you  were  coming?  Dear  me,  it  does 
my  heart  good  to  see  somebody  from  Washington 
again.  Squire,  a  chair  for  my  friend.  O,  never 
mind  your  cigar.  The  smell  of  a  fragrant  Havana 
is  incense  to  my  nostrils,  especially  when  a  man 
from  the  capital's  at  one  end  of  it.  And  such  a 
dear  old  friend,  too  !  There,  make  yourself  comfort- 
able in  the  shade  and  prepare  to  tell  me  all  the  gos- 
sip." She  threw  herself  on  a  narrow  bench  by  the 
window,  holding  by  her  two  hands  clasped  over  the 
edge  of  the  seat,  leaned  gracefully  back  against  the 
window  frame,  crossed  her  daintily  slippered  feet, 
shook  back  her  mass  of  gold-bronze  hair  from  her 
forehead,  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  and  cried : 

"Well,  what  in  the  world  are  you  waiting  for? 


48  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Don't  you  see  I  am  dying  to  hear  that  musical 
drawl  of  yours  ?" 

"If  I  were  to  tell  you  what  is  uppermost  in  my 
mind  at  this  moment,  Mrs.  Poynter,  I  should  say 
you  make  one  of  the  most  charming  pictures,  just 
as  you  are,  that  my  eyes  ever  rested  on." 

"Delightful !  The  true  Washington  flavor.  Did 
you  hear  that.  Squire?  Well,  listen  and  learn.  If 
you  have  an  ambition  to  succeed  with  women, 
study  the  speech  of  a  man  from  Washington." 

"From  the  standpoint  of  a  Southern  gentleman, 
I  should  say  that  the  speech  of  Mr.  Willis  was 
bold,  if  not  positively  rude,  mar'm.  In  fact,  an  en- 
croachment on  the  rights — " 

"Of  prope'ty.  Yes,  I  know.  Squire,  whar's  Joe?" 
mimicked  Mrs.  Poynter.  "My  dear  Waterloo,  you 
have  no  idea  what  a  world  of  trouble  this  war  has 
brought  to  the  Squire  here.  What  from  regret  that 
he's  too  old  to  enlist,  and  fear  that  the  abolition- 
ists will  confiscate  his  one  little  negro,  he  does  noth- 
ing but  drink  mint  juleps  and  quote  the  constitution 
from  morning  to  night." 

"I  met  the  Squire  when  I  first  came,  half  an  hour 
ago,"  said  Willis,  with  a  great  show  of  earnestness, 
"and  found  him  a  most  agreeable  gentleman,  Mrs. 
Poynter.  I  will  not  hear  him  slandered  even  by 
you." 


SURPRISES.  49 

"Your  words  do  you  credit,  sah ;  I'm  proud  to 
meet  a  man  from  the  No'th  who  appreciates  a  gen- 
tleman who,  although  debarred  by  circumstances 
from  winning  glory  on  the  field  of  battle  in  defense 
of  the  constitution,  is  ever  ready  to  sacrifice  his  life 
on  the  altar  of  female  loveliness."  Having  uttered 
these  words  in  a  most  grandiloquent  manner,  the 
Squire  bowed  deeply  to  Mrs.  Poynter,  and  then,  re- 
suming his  place  in  the  doorway,  felt  awkwardly 
about  with  his  cane,  and  cried,  "Whar's  Joe?" 

"Your  sentiments  do  you  honor,  Squire,"  said 
Willis,  unsmilingly. 

"That's  the  first  real  compliment  the  Squire  has 
paid  me  this  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Poynter,  "and 
proves  the  influence  of  good  example." 

"Are  you  a  guest  at  Waverley,  Mrs.  Poynter?" 
inquired  Willis,  lighting  a  fresh  cigar. 

"Yes,  of  my  foster  sister,  Virginia.  I've  been 
here  for  a  month." 

"And  I  neither  knew  nor  guessed  it,"  said  Wil- 
lis, with  an  added  drawl. 

"I  was  of  the  opinion,  sah,  that  a  newspaper 
co'respondent  either  knew  or  guessed  about  every- 
thing," said  the  Squire,  anxious  not  to  be  crowded 
from  the  conversation. 

"Waterloo,  that's  too  bad,  and  I'm  terribly  dis- 
appointed," cried  the  widow.    "Here  I've  been  flat- 


so  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

taring  myself  your  visit  was  purely  and  solely  to 
see  me.  If  you  didn't  know  I  was  here,  why  in  the 
world  did  you  come?" 

"My  original  purpose  was  to  see  the  mistress  of 
this  plantation,  although  I  have  not  the  honor  of 
her  acquaintance." 

"I  informed  IMiss  Virginia  that  you  wished  to 
see  her,  sah,  and  she  requested  me  to  say  she  would 
see  you  very  soon,  sah,"  Henderson  hastened  to 
say. 

"Find  Virginia  if  you  can,  Squire,  and  tell  her 
that  Mr.  Willis  is  a  friend  of  mine  whom  I  shall  be 
proud  to  present." 

The  Squire  went  away  to  do  Mrs.  Poynter's  bid- 
ding. When  he  was  gone,  Willis  turned  to  Mrs. 
Poynter  and  said : 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Poynter,  there  are  many  reasons 
why  no  one  in  this  house,  or  whoever  may  come 
here,  should  know  of  my  real  connection  with  the 
War  Department.  It  was  through  the  influence  of 
the  late  Senator  Poynter  that  I  secured  the  confi- 
dence of  Secretary  Stanton  and  was  given  an  ap- 
pointment in  the  secret  service.  You  were  aware 
of  the  fact  at  the  time,  and  I  speak  now  so  that  you 
may  not  inadvertently  refer  to  it,  and  thus,  perhaps, 
spoil  some  pretty  little  plan  I  may  have  laid." 

"You  do  just  right,  Waterloo.     It  might  have 


SURPRISES.  51 

happened  just  as  you  say,"  said  Mrs.  Poynter, 
making  an  effort  to  be  serious.  "But  now  that 
you've  warned  me,  I  shall  be  on  my  guard.  Only, 
if  you  do  have  any  interesting  secrets,"  she  con- 
tinued, in  her  usual  gay  manner,  don't,  for  the  life 
of  you,  hint  of  them  to  me,  or  I  shall  never  sleep  for 
wishing  to  know  them." 

"If  you  refer  to  professional  secrets,  my  dear 
Mrs.  Poynter,"  said  Willis,  "I  can  promise  you  obe- 
dience without  reserve.  But  in  return  I  must  ask 
you  not  to  request  a  confidence,  for  I  shall  find  it 
hard  to  refuse  you  anything." 

There  was  a  thrill  in  his  voice  that  brought  a 
livelier  color  to  Mrs.  Poynter's  cheeks,  and  she  has- 
tened to  say : 

"There  now,  Waterloo,  you  are  going  to  be  un- 
natural and  I  shall  be  forced  to  dislike  you.  Isn't 
this  a  beautiful  old  place?"  she  continued,  in  a  half- 
embarrassed  way. 

"Very,"  drawled  the  correspondent,  settling  back 
in  his  chair  and  smoking  furiously  for  a  moment. 
"By  the  way,  who  is  that  interesting  little  Arab  I 
met  out  here  in  the  yard  a  while  ago?  A  dark- 
skinned  girl,  all  eyes  and  teeth.  When  I  called  her 
'Miss'  she  came  near  fainting  away,  and  the  Squire 
went  out  of  his  way  to  correct  me." 

"You  mean   Estelle.     I   can   imagine  how  the 

4 


52  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Squire  was  shocked.  She  is  the  daughter  of  a  fa- 
vorite slave  of  Judge  Eggleston's.  Her  mother  died 
when  Estelle  was  an  infant.  Virginia's  black  Mam- 
mie  nursed  her,  and  although  she  is  a  slave,  she  has 
always  been  allowed  her  liberty.  She  is  supposed 
to  be  Virginia's  hand-maid,  but  she  does  quite  as 
she  pleases,  and  is  more  or  less  spoiled.  I  can  im- 
agine how  you  shocked  the  Squire.  The  lines  of 
caste  are  very  closely  drawn  in  the  South." 

"She's  too  pretty  to  be  classed  in  the  Squire's 
category  of  property.  By  Jimtown !  I  don't  wonder 
Mrs.  Stowe  and  Wendell  Phillips  and  the  rest  of 
'em  are  abolitionists !" 

"Hush,  here  comes  Virginia.  Don't  prejudice 
your  introduction  by  such  expressions." 

"Mr.  Willis,"  said  the  Squire,  stepping  briskly 
out  upon  the  gallery,  "allow  me  to  present  you  to 
Miss  Eggleston,  who  is,  during  the  unavoidable  ab- 
sence of  her  father,  the  mistress  of  this  plantation. 
Miss  Virginia,  Mr.  WilUs  of  Washington." 

The  Squire  bowed  low  and  swept  the  floor  with 
his  hat  in  an  obsequious  gesture. 

"Welcome  to  Waverley,  Mr.  Willis,"  said  Vir- 
ginia, graciously  extending  her  hand.  "The  Squire 
informed  me  you  had  a  message  for  me.  I  hope 
you  bring  good  news !" 

"And  I  trust  you  will  consider  it  so.     I  learned 


SURPRISES.  S3 

this  morning  that  a  friend  of  mine,  and,  I  believe,  of 
yours,  was  in  the  neighborhood,  and  thinking  war 
might  keep  the  news  from  you,  I  made  bold  to  come 
over  from  headquarters  and  tell  you  of  it." 

"A  friend  of  mine?    To  whom  do  you  refer?" 

"Lieutenant  Hamilton.  He's  been  ordered  to 
the  Roads  and  is  now  stationed  on  the  Minnesota." 

"Earl  Hamilton,  on  a  Yankee  frigate !"  cried  the 
Squire,  his  face  flushing  with  anger.  "He's  a  dis- 
grace to  the  South,  sah.  A  promisin'  young  Vir- 
ginian ruined  by  the  prejudices  taught  at  Annapo- 
lis!" 

"Don't  use  hard  words.  Squire,  they  don't  be- 
come you,"  said  Mrs.  Poynter,  tapping  him  lightly 
on  the  arm  with  her  fan.  "And  oh,  you  great  big 
stupid !"  she  continued,  turning  to  Waterloo.  "The 
news  you  bring  is  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable.  We 
knew  all  about  it  yesterday,  didn't  we,  Virginia  ?" 

"O,  yes,"  replied  Virginia,  the  color  mounting  her 
cheeks.  "Lieutenant  Hamilton  is  an  old  friend  of 
the  family,  and  we  were  certain  to  know  of  his  ar- 
rival. But  it  was  very  kind  of  you  to  think  of  us, 
Mr.  Willis.  Then  you  and  Earl  are  old  acquaint- 
ances?" 

"Yes,  I  was  detailed  to  look  after  the  news  of  the 
fleet  off  Charleston,  and  we  became  fast  friends." 

While  they  were  speaking,  little  Joe  had  plucked 


54  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

a  rose  from  one  of  the  plants  blooming  on  the  gal- 
lery, and  slipped  it  into  the  Squire's  hand.  The 
Squire  brought  it  to  the  level  of  his  nose,  looked 
at  it  quizzically  for  a  moment,  and  then,  with  a  hint 
of  moisture  in  his  eyes,  turned  to  the  boy,  and  said : 

"You  little  thieven'  scoundrel !  Ef  I  catch  you  a 
pullin'  Miss  Virginia's  flowers,  I'll  rawhide  yo'  till 
yo'  white."  Then  to  Mrs.  Poynter  he  made  a  sweep- 
ing bow  and  presented  her  with  the  rose. 

"Your  property.  Squire,  seems  to  be  developing 
a  soul,"  she  said,  with  a  light  laugh.  "I  shall  treas- 
ure this  as  a  most  eloquent  and  convincing  argu- 
ment against  the  'rights  o'  prope'ty  according  to 
the  constitution.'  " 

"Your  sentiment,  Mrs.  Poynter,"  said  the 
Squire,  bowing  again,  "does  honor  to  yo'  heart,  but 
violence  to  the  constitution." 

"You  have  a  quaint  old  place  here,  Miss  Eggles- 
ton,"  said  Willis,  when  they  had  done  laughing  at 
the  little  scene  in  which  Joe  had  unwittingly  been 
the  chief  actor.  "And  quaint  people  as  well.  I 
found  your  old  servant  to  be  quite  a  philosopher  in 
his  way." 

"We  are  little  understood  at  the  North,"  replied 
Virginia,  gazing  thoughtfully  in  the  direction  of  the 
quarters.  "The  negroes  are  a  race  of  philosophers. 
It  is  those  who  are  striving  to  destroy  their  homes 


SURPRISES.  SS 

and  poison  their  peaceful  lives  who  lack  philosophy. 
But — come,  let's  take  a  little  stroll  through  the 
grounds.  I've  been  up  since  daybreak,  but  the 
morning  has  been  so  filled  with  duties  I  have  not 
had  an  opportunity  to  get  a  breath  of  the  woods." 

Together  they  went  down  the  broad  steps  of  the 
gallery  and  moved  about  under  the  trees  along  the 
winding  paths  until  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the 
wood.  Here  Virginia  turned  back,  while. the  other 
three  continued  along  the  path  toward  the  James, 
Mrs.  Poynter's  merry  laugh  making  a  pleasant  ac- 
companiment to  the  murmur  of  the  distant  waters. 

Virginia  went  slowly  back  toward  the  house,  her 
mind  full  of  conflicting  emotions.  What  would 
Earl  Hamilton  think  of  her  letter?  When  they 
parted,  she  had  thought  it  was  for  the  last  time. 
There  had  been  hasty  words  on  both  sides.  She  be- 
lieved herself  in  the  right  then,  and  time  had  not 
changed  her  opinions.  Had  he  remained  at 
Charleston  or  been  ordered  anywhere  else,  it  might 
have  been  different.  But  Harlan's  assurance  that 
the  Merrimac  was  to  attack  the  Union  fleet  very 
soon,  perhaps  today,  had  alarmed  her.  To  save  an 
old  friend  from  certain  death — this  was  her  first 
duty.    After  that — 

A  sudden  shout  down  the  shell  road  beyond  the 
stone  wall  was  followed  by  the  sharp  crack  of  a  pis- 


56  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

tol.  There  were  shouts,  orders,  and  the  tramp  of 
hurried  feet.  Estelle,  running  through  the  gate 
from  the  road,  rushed  past  Virginia,  who  stood  near 
the  house.  "Lafe !"  panted  the  girl,  as  she  flew  up 
the  steps  to  the  gallery.  When  she  reached  the  door 
nearest  the  gate,  she  stood  a  moment  irresolute. 
Then  she  threw  it  wide  open,  turned  quickly,  drew 
herself  to  her  full  height,  and  with  blazing  eyes, 
clenched  hands,  and  tightly  drawn  lips,  stood  like  a 
bronze  statue  framed  by  the  doorway,  waiting. 


A  RESCUE.  57 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A  RESCUE. 

Virginia  was  standing  half  way  down  to  the  gate, 
when  Harlan  darted  past  her  into  the  house,  closely- 
pursued  by  three  of  the  soldiers.  As  he  plunged 
through  the  open  door,  one  of  his  pursuers  fired  his 
pistol,  and  the  bullet,  plowing  into  the  woodwork 
of  the  casement,  threw  out  a  splinter  which  struck 
and  crimsoned  the  cheek  of  the  fugitive.  The  other 
two  men  did  not  stop,  but  the  instant  Harlan  was 
inside,  the  door  was  shut  and  solidly  bolted  by  Es- 
telle.  The  soldiers  hurled  themselves  vainly  against 
it.  A  dozen  other  soldiers  quickly  arrived,  and, 
under  the  direction  of  a  corporal,  surrounded  the 
house.  Evidently  Harlan  had  run  upon  a  post  of 
the  brigade  patrol,  and  the  entire  squad  had  given 
chase. 

Virginia,  pale  and  terrified  for  an  instant  at  the 
sudden  rush  and  the  firing,  now  flushed  angrily, 


58  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

and  going  straight  to  the  corporal,  fronted  him 
squarely,  and  said,  "What  authority  have  you,  sir, 
to  attack  the  inhabitants  of  this  house?" 

"That's  my  business,  ma'am,"  said  the  corporal, 
coolly,  "I'm  in  command  of  this  squad." 

"I  am  in  possession  of  this  house,  my  friend,  and 
it  becomes  decidedly  my  business,  when  you  bring 
your  shooting  ruffians  upon  these  premises.  And 
let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  your  officers  shall  hear  of 
this  outrage." 

In  her  heart  she  was  mortally  afraid  it  was  all  over 
with  Harlan,  but  she  had  the  strength  to  appear  con- 
fident. 

"I  think  your  friend'U  just  about  swing  for  a  spy, 
that's  what  I  think,"  said  the  non-com,  with  the  air 
of  concluding  the  interview.  And  with  this  reassur- 
ing opinion,  he  ordered  three  of  his  men  to  try  all 
doors  and  windows.  Another  he  sent  for  an  axe  to 
have  in  readiness  to  beat  down  the  door. 

The  situation  was  desperate,  for  if  Harlan  were 
once  captured,  there  would  be  no  trouble  in  estab- 
lishing his  identity.  And  it  was  for  her — through 
his  blind,  unreasoning  love  of  her — that  he  was 
here,  an  inch  from  death. 

The  men  who  had  been  looking  for  an  open  door 
or  window  were  not  very  anxious  to  find  it.  It  was 
too  easy  to  shoot  through.    So  they  reported  every- 


A  RESCUE.  59 

thing  firmly  locked.  The  man  with  the  axe  re- 
turned. Four  or  five  smashing  blows  near  the  bolt 
shattered  the  hasp,  and  the  door  was  pushed  open. 
At  the  same  instant  a  pistol  shot  rang  out  in  the 
rear  of  the  house.  A  mounted  officer,  accompanied 
by  his  orderly,  came  trotting  down  the  shell  road, 
and  perceiving  the  excitement,  spurred  through  the 
gate  and  pulled  up  close  to  the  veranda,  the  sol- 
diers coming  to  attention  and  saluting. 

"What's  all  this  ?"  he  asked. 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  question,  four  troopers 
came  around  the  house  with  drawn  sabers,  escort- 
ing Harlan,  whose  cheek  was  bleeding  from  the 
splinter.  One  of  the  troopers  had  a  bullet  through 
his  hand. 

"Who's  this?"  demanded  the  officer. 

The  corporal  gave  the  saber  salute  and  replied: 
'^'Sir,  this  man  was  fooling  around  our  post.  He 
didn't  see  us  and  he  wouldn't  halt  when  ordered. 
We  chased  him  here." 

"Who  are  you,  then?"  asked  the  officer,  address- 
ing Harlan. 

"I'm  a  visitin'  in  this  house.  General  von  Ben- 
zinger,  and  your  men  have  no  right  to  arrest  me." 

"Visiting?"  The  General  glanced  at  Virginia, 
started  slightly,  and  took  a  good  full  look.  Raising 
his  hat,  he  swung  ofif  his  horse,  and  said,  politely. 


60  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"I  have  not  the  honor  of  knowing  you,  Mademoi- 
selle, but  are  not  you  Miss  Eggleston  ?"  He  spoke 
with  a  slight,  very  agreeable  accent,  as  of  a  French- 
man who  had  lived  in  England. 

"I  am,"  replied  the  girl,  ''and  if  you  are  really 
General  von  Benzinger,  I  protest  against  this  un- 
justifiable arrest  of  my  cousin,  here  in  my  house." 

"Ah !  Your  cousin  ?"  said  the  General,  in  a  tone 
of  suave  inquiry.    "He  is  a  non-combatant?" 

"He  is  here  visiting  me — he  is  not  here  as  a  com- 
batant." 

The  General  raised  his  shoulders  and  eyebrows 
the  least  bit.    "And  his  name?" 

"My  name's  Robertson,"  said  Harlan,  doggedly. 

"But  why  do  you  not  let  the  lady  answer  ?  Does 
she  not  know  the  name  of  her  cousin?  What  is 
your  cousin's  name.  Miss  Eggleston  ?" 

Virginia's  face  became  crimson,  as  she  answered, 
"He  has  told  you."  The  delicately  veiled  irony  laid 
by  the  General  upon  the  words  "your  cousin"  im- 
plied skepticism,  and  instead  of  being  able  to  re- 
sent it,  she  was  forced,  tacitly,  at  least,  to  lie  to  this 
man  who  suspected  her  of  lying.  Beneath  the  boor- 
ish stare  of  the  soldiers  and  the  coldly  amused  eyes 
of  the  General,  she  was  blushing  furiously — angry 
at  her  lack  of  self-control,  terrified  by  the  dreadful 


A  RESCUE.  61 

consequences  to  Harlan  if  she  should  unwittingly  re- 
veal his  identity. 

"Withdraw  your  squad!"  said  the  General,  sud- 
denly, and  the  soldiers  jumped  in  obedience. 
Reaching  the  gate,  with  his  men,  the  corporal  halted 
them,  uncertain  whether  their  dismissal  was  final. 

Virginia  was  grateful  for  the  diversion,  which 
enabled  her  to  get  control  of  herself.  Von  Ben- 
zinger  did  not  conceal  his  admiration  for  the  girl's 
face  and  its  changing  emotions. 

"Miss  Eggleston,"  he  said,  "I  choose  to  believe 
you.  This  is  your  cousin,  Robertson,  a  non-combat- 
ant. The  soldiers  have  therefore  no  business  to  ar- 
rest him.    He  is  free." 

"Much  obliged  to  ye,"  said  Harlan,  with  a  deep 
breath  of  relief. 

"I  do  this  upon  your  representations.  Miss  Eg- 
gleston," continued  Von  Benzinger,  ignoring  Har- 
lan's existence.  "But  you  had  best  urge  your 
cousin  to  postpone  his  visit.  May  I  have  a  private 
word  with  you?" 

Harlan's  face  darkened  at  the  cavalier  dismissal, 
but  he  was  hardly  in  a  position  to  remonstrate,  and 
he  quickly  disappeared  through  the  battered  door- 
way. The  soldiers,  seeing  that  their  late  prisoner 
was  free,  started  down  the  road  outside  the  wall. 

"Corporal!"  cahed  Von  Benzinger.     "Under  no 


62  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

circumstances  will  you  again  molest  the  inhabitants 
of  this  house." 

The  corporal  saluted  and  marched  away,  growl- 
ing out  a  string  of  oaths  under  his  breath,  and  con- 
soling himself  as  best  he  could  with  the  possession 
of  Harlan's  beautiful  pistol. 

The  General  dismissed  his  orderly,  and  after  the 
man  had  ridden  away,  old  Seth,  timidly  peering 
after  the  retreating  soldiers,  came  out  of  his  hid- 
ing place  and  closed  the  great  iron  gates.  The  Gen- 
eral observed  it,  smiHng.  "I  seem  to  be  your  pris- 
oner now,"  he  said.  Virginia  was  about  to  call  to 
Seth  to  open  the  gates,  but  the  General  waved  his 
hand,  stopping  her. 

"Let  me  be  shut  in  with  you  a  moment,"  he  said. 
"It  is  long  since  I  have  talked  with  a  refined  girl. 
Do  not  deny  me."  He  threw  the  double  reins  over 
the  horse's  neck  and  let  the  animal  graze.  "Let  the 
gates  shut  out  the  war,  and  here  in  your  garden  let 
us  be,  not  a  Federal  General  and  a  Confederate  girl, 
but  simply  a  lady  and  a — gentleman." 

"You  will  find  me  just  a  country  girl,  sir,  but  if 
you  wish  to  stay,  I  am  under  such  obligations  to 
you — " 

Oh,  no.  Mademoiselle — not  that — if  it  is  merely 
obligation,  I  will  not  force  my  society.  I  flattered 
myself  you  might  be  willing — " 


A  RESCUE.  63 

"I  am  willing,  General  von  Benzinger;  I  am 
very,  very  grateful  for  what  you  have  done,  but — 
well,  truly,  I  cannot  shut  out  the  war — it  touches 
me  too  nearly,  too  terribly.  I  should  feel  disloyal 
could  I  chat  with  you,  forgetting  you  are  an  en- 
emy." 

"Have  I  then  proved  myself  such  an  enemy?" 
he  asked,  looking  at  her  intently. 

"You  know  you  have  been  very  considerate,  and 
— still  you  are  fighting  us — me,  my  brother,  my 
father,  my — my  country." 

"Miss  Eggleston,"  said  he,  suddenly,  "Is  Lafe 
Harlan  really  your  cousin  ?" 

Virginia  started  and  made  a  visible  effort  to  con- 
ceal her  alarm. 

"I  did  not  know,"  he  went  on.  "I  saved  his  life 
because  I  thought  you  wished  it.  I  thought  him 
more  than  a  cousin  to  you,  and  when  I  saw  you, 
beautiful  in  your  distress,  I  saved  him.  I  am  not 
generous  enough  to  do  it  silently — I  wish  you  to 
know  that  I  know  all,  and  still,  for  your  sake,  I 
saved  him." 

Virginia,  thrown  into  dire  confusion  by  this  rev- 
elation, was  spared  the  embarrassment  of  a  reply  by 
a  merry  voice  inside  the  house. 

"Virginia,  what  have  you  been  doing  to  this  door? 
— I   declare —     What  will  you   do   next?     Have 


64  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

you  been  using  the  house  for  a  target — Oh,  Lord !" 
Mrs.  Poynter  was  tripping  down  the  steps,  and  her 
last  remark  was  occasioned  by  the  sight  of  the  Fed- 
eral General. 

"My  sister,  Mrs.  Poynter — General  von  Benzin- 
ger." 

"Goodness  me,  yes,  of  course — why,  I  saw  the 
General  at  the  President's  reception  last  year — only 
then  you  were  Monsieur  von  Benzinger — but  I 
heard  all  about  you.  We  couldn't  understand  the 
French  title  on  the  German  name." 

"I  heard  of,  and,  from  a  distance,  admired  Senator 
Poynter's  wife,  the  wit  of  Washington.  And  how  is 
the  Senator?"  inquired  Von  Benzinger,  politely. 
"Is  he  well?" 

A  pained  look  shot  into  the  face  of  the  merry 
Cora.  "He's  dead,"  she  said.  Von  Benzinger's 
features  were  a  study.  To  make  such  a  blunder 
cut  him  to  the  quick,  and  he  stood  speechless. 

Mrs.  Poynter,  seeing  his  lugubrious  and  helpless 
face,  lost  the  expression  of  pain,  and  suddenly 
burst  out  laughing.  "I  declare,"  she  said,  "if  this 
had  happened  to  anybody  else  I  should  scream." 

"I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,"  he  said,  and  bit  his 
lip  with  vexation.  "I  have  been  engrossed — I  had 
not  heard,  I — "  he  paused  at  a  loss — the  situation 
was  hopeless. 


A  RESCUE.  65 

"Do  be  considerate,  Cora,"  said  Virginia,  "even 
if  you  don't  mind  seeming  heartless." 

Von  Benzinger  thanked  her  with  his  eyes,  and 
Mrs.  Poynter  regained  her  composure. 

"It  was  shocking  of  me  to  laugh — I,  I  beg  your 
pardon."  She  smiled  sweetly  at  Von  Benzinger, 
who  was  never  more  thoroughly  uncomfortable  in 
his  life.  He  prided  himself  upon  not  being  a  fool, 
and  was  habitually  master  of  the  situation. 

"You  are  in  a  new  role,  are  you  not,  with  your 
shoulder  straps?"  asked  Mrs.  Poynter,  saying  the 
first  thing  to  make  conversation.  "You  were  a 
ship-builder,  or  naval  constructor,  or  something, 
weren't  you?  All  Washington  was  talking  about 
your  proposed  ironclads." 

"I  served  in  the  Crimea,"  he  replied.  "My  friend, 
the  Due  de  Chartres,  is  on  McClellan's  staff,  and  he 
told  his  chief  about  me.  Hence  my  shoulder  straps. 
My  plans  were  rejected  by  the  President's  naval  offi- 
cers. They  will  regret  it."  There  was  a  fierce  look 
in  his  eye  for  an  instant,  but  his  face  softened  as  he 
turned  to  Virginia,  and  said,  "I  must  be  going, 
something  may  happen  before  long — before  I  re- 
turn. By  the  way,"  he  said,  glancing  at  the  house 
and  down  toward  the  sea,  "my  brigade  has  re- 
ceived orders  to  move  further  inland,  and  the  sol- 
diers will  be  all  about  your  house  here.    The  Con- 


66  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

federates  will  move  up  close  to  this  point  today. 
But  be  assured,  there  will  be  no  battle,  and  you  shall 
not  suffer  from  my  men.  Have  I  not  proved  that? 
Your  cousin,  however,  might  again  be  mistaken  for 
a  combatant,  and  I' should  advise  him  to  go  to  the 
Confederate  lines  before  my  troops  arrive." 

"I  will  tell  him  what  you  say,"  answered  Vir- 
ginia. "I  am  very  grateful."  She  gave  him  her 
hand. 

"Dear  me !  what  has  happened  ?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Poynter.  "I've  been  out  in  the  woods.  Were  the 
soldiers  here?"  Mrs.  Poynter  caught  the  warning 
look  on  Virginia's  face  and  checked  herself. 

"I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  dear — later.  The  Gen- 
eral has  been  very  good  to  us." 

"Here,  Thetis,"  he  called.  The  trim  black  mare 
— three  of  her  feet  being  white,  she  was  named  for 
Homer's  sea-nymph,  the  silver-footed  Thetis — 
looking  up  from  the  grass,  tossed  her  shapely  head, 
trotted  up  and  put  her  soft  nose  in  her  master's 
hand.  Von  Benzinger  swung  himself  lightly  into 
the  saddle.  His  fatigue  blouse  fatted  perfectly  his 
deep  chest  and  small  waist.  He  lifted  his  broad- 
brimmed  black  compaign  hat,  showing  his  snow- 
white,  wavy  hair  which  made  a  startling  and  effec- 
tive contrast  with  his  black  Van  Dyke  beard. 
"Good  morning,  ladies,"  he  said.     "I  hope  I  shall 


A  RESCUE.  ei 

see  much  of  you."  Whirling  his  horse  he  started 
briskly  down  the  driveway,  having  forgotten  the 
closed  gates.    Seeing  them,  he  reined  in. 

"Oh,  the  gates !"  said  Virginia.  "Wait,  General, 
I'll  call  Seth." 

"Would  you  keep  a  General  waiting  for  a  serv- 
ant?" said  Mrs.  Poynter,  banteringly.  "No,  I'll 
just  have  to  be  his  orderly  and  trot  down  there  my- 
self." Mrs.  Poynter  was  secretly  glad  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  see  a  little  more  of  this  polished  General. 
"You  forgetful  genius,"  she  said,  changing  from 
mock  resignation  to  mock  reproach,  "why  didn't 
you  lead  your  horse  down  there  and  save  us  this 
trouble?" 

"Not  for  the  world  would  I  trouble  you,  Mrs. 
Poynter,"  said  the  General.  He  measured  with  his 
eye  the  four  and  a  half  foot  wall  and  the  six-inch 
iron  spikes  atop  of  it.  Then  he  bent  forward  and 
gave  spur,  and  the  black  mare  shot  at  the  wall.  It 
looked  suicidal — as  well  ride  at  a  house.  There  was 
a  sudden  gathering  and  unfolding  of  power — a  leap 
— the  black  mare  lengthened  and  rose  in  the  air, 
cleared  the  spikes  by  an  inch,  and  descending, 
caught  her  balance.  Von  Benzinger,  turning  back 
in  the  saddle,  swept  his  hat  far  back  in  a  graceful 
bow  and  rode  away. 

5 


68  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


CHAPTER  V. 


VON  BENZINGER. 

General  Hugo  von  Benzinger  rode  down  from 
Waverley  to  the  bay  that  peaceful,  perfumed  morn- 
ing of  the  early  spring.  He  drank  in  the  glory  of 
green  leaves,  the  scent  of  flowers  among  the  grass, 
and  the  notes  of  hidden  birds ;  his  heart  grew  tender 
with  beauty  and  he  dreamed.  Virginia  haunted 
him.  Her  face,  with  its  slightly  aquiline  nose  and 
clean-cut  lips,  was  so  firm  and  yet  so  childlike.  He 
tried  to  remember  the  exact  shades  in  her  lustrous 
eyes ;  he  could  see  plainly  the  long  lashes,  and  the 
point  of  fine  black  hair  breaking  the  oval  of  the 
straight  forehead.  He  saw  again  the  health  of  her 
fair  complexion,  browned  a  little  by  the  sun,  the 
rose-tinted  cheek,  the  supple  strength  of  her  fig- 
ure; and  more  than  all,  he  heard  still  her  slow, 
sweet,  southern  voice — a  contralto  speaking  voice — 


VON  BENZINGER.  69 

like  the  deepest  flute  notes  he  thought — a  virginal 
voice — and  happy  the  man  who  should  awaken  in 
it  love's  warmer  tones. 

As  he  had  told  her,  it  was  long  since  he  had 
talked  with  a  fine  woman.  He  had  dealt  roughly 
with  rough  men ;  and  his  life  had  been  one  battle. 
Now,  as  he  rode  to  the  bay,  his  mind  ran  back  in 
flashes  over  that  chequered  life — the  first  memories 
of  his  childhood  in  Spain,  and  the  Madonna-like 
peasant  of  Cadiz,  who  was  his  mother — her  death 
and  his  Strasbourg  boyhood  in  the  courtly  house  of 
his  father — his  father's  death,  and  he  a  nameless  out- 
cast— now  before  the  mast  in  the  French  navy ;  now 
in  the  iron  mills  till  he  became  foreman ;  now  a 
student  of  engineering  in  the  Latin  quarter ;  now  a 
soldier — sergeant  at  Alma,  lieutenant  at  Inkerman, 
captain  at  Balaclava,  and  colonel  at  Sevastopol ;  and, 
at  lastj  in  1858,  a  famous  man — constructor  of  the 
steam  frigate  "La  Gloire,"  the  first  ironclad,  whose 
name — Glory — revealed  the  main  motive  of  his  life. 
Then  in  Paris  he  was  somebody,  and  remembering 
the  manners  of  his  boyhood,  he  perfected  the  polish 
which  had  just  pleased  Miss  Eggleston  and  charmed 
Mrs.  Poynter. 

But  although  "La  Gloire"  was  the  most  talked-of 
vessel  in  Europe,  although  Napoleon  III  ordered 
two  more  vessels  like  her,  although  the  British  ad- 


70  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

miralty  felt  constrained  to  construct  the  ironclad 
"Warrior"  as  an  offset  to  the  French  ships,  yet  the 
world  was  indifferent,  and  the  naval  profession  it- 
self only  half  believed  in  Von  Benzinger's  revolu- 
tionary idea.  Paris,  of  course,  while  accepting  him 
for  his  success,  amused  itself  at  his  expense.  Von 
Benzinger  was  the  only  man  then  living  who  fully 
realized  the  tremendous  superiority  of  iron  over 
wood  upon  the  sea. 

When,  therefore,  civil  war  grew  imminent  in 
America,  Von  Benzinger  hastened  to  this  country, 
hoping  to  test  in  battle  ships  like  his  "La  Gloire." 
Since  the  completion  of  the  armored  frigate  he  had 
evolved  in  his  mind  the  idea  of  a  still  stronger  ves- 
sel, of  which  the  sides  should  be  inclined  so  that 
shot  would  be  deflected,  and  which  should  be  pro- 
vided with  a  beak  for  striking  an  antagonist  below 
the  water  line.  But  in  this  country  he  lacked  the 
necessary  influence  and  the  knowledge  of  how  to 
pull  the  wires.  He  was  still  without  a  hearing  when 
the  young  Due  de  Chartres,  the  Conte  de  Paris,  and 
the  Prince  de  Joinville  joined  McClellan — the  two 
former  as  his  aides.  The  young  noblemen  called 
McClellan's  attention  to  Von  Benzinger's  astonish- 
ing military  record  in  the  Crimea,  and  soon  after- 
ward the  veteran  colonel  was  offered  a  brig- 
adier's    commission.     He     accepted    it,     and    by 


VON  BENZINGER.  71 

help  of  his  new  connections  got  a  hearing  for  his 
plans.  The  President  appointed  a  board  of  naval 
officers  to  investigate  the  subject  of  armor-plating, 
and  Von  Benzinger  exulted  in  his  prospective  suc- 
cess. The  board,  however,  proved  unenthusiastic 
and  even  skeptical  in  regard  to  the  entire  subject 
of  armor-plating;  and  to  Von  Benzinger's  intense 
chagrin,  it  reported  adversely  upon  his  proposition 
to  convert  frigates  of  the  Minnesota  class  into  iron- 
clads. Shortly  afterward,  the  disappointed  naval 
constructor  heard  the  Confederates  had  raised  and 
docked  the  sunken  Merrimac  at  Gosport  Navy 
Yards,  near  Hampton  Roads.  To  the  amazement 
of  the  Due  de  Chartres,  who  knew  Von  Benzinger's 
consuming  thirst  for  military  distinction,  the  newly 
appointed  brigadier,  for  some  unknown  reason, 
asked  for  service,  not  with  the  fighting  army  of  the 
Potomac,  but  with  the  garrison  of  the  Department 
of  Virginia,  stationed  at  Fort  Monroe.  There  he 
and  his  proposals  were  forgotten,  and  as  far  as 
Washington  was  concerned,  the  constructor  of  "La 
Gloire"  dropped  into  obscurity. 

Six  months  later,  when  the  vague  terror  of  the 
Merrimac  began,  like  a  dim  eclipse,  to  darken  the 
nation  and  shed  disastrous  twilight,  the  President 
uneasily  appointed  another  board  to  investigate  the 
armor-plating  adopted  by  France  and  England.  But 


72  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Von  Benzinger,  who  knew  more  about  that  plat- 
ing than  any  other  man  aUve,  scornfully  refused  to 
submit  his  plans  a  second  time.  "They  had  their 
chance;  they  lost  it,"  was  his  grim  comment. 

John  Ericsson,  however,  the  inventor  of  the 
screw  propellor  and  the  caloric  engine,  laid  before 
the  board  his  plan  for  the  construction  of  floating 
batteries  almost  wholly  of  iron.  The  board  prompt- 
ly rejected  this  wild  scheme.  Then  the  Swedish  in- 
ventor, unlike  his  fiery  rival,  Von  Benzinger,  went 
patiently  before  the  board,  and  in  an  hour's  talk 
convinced  the  naval  officers  that  his  plan  was  prac- 
tical and  based  on  sound  theory.  Reversing  their 
original  decision,  they  recommended  to  Naval  Sec- 
retary Welles  the  construction  of  a  floating  battery 
according  to  Ericsson's  plans,  and  under  his  per- 
sonal superintendence.  The  Secretary  orally  au- 
thorized Ericsson  to  go  ahead. 

These  things — his  successes  and  disappointments 
— the  contrasting  scenes  of  his  life,  passed  before 
Von  Benzinger's  mind,  as  he  rode  through  the  quiet 
woods.  The  road  emerged  from  a  tract  of  thick 
scrub  oak,  descended  a  slope,  crossed  a  small  tide- 
water stream,  and  ascended  the  opposite  bank.  At 
this  point  began  the  sandy,  treeless  levels  which  ran 
down  to  the  shore.  Here  Von  Benzinger  halted. 
Immediately  before  him  was  one  of  his  regiments, 


VON  BENZINGER.  73 

breaking  camp.  The  bugle  was  sounding  "the  gen- 
eral," the  signal  for  striking  tents,  and  at  one  and 
the  same  time  every  tent  in  the  regiment  swayed 
over  and  came  flat  to  the  ground.  There  was  much 
bustling  of  blue-shirted  men,  and  very  quickly, 
where  trim  rows  of  canvas  walls  had  stood,  there 
were  only  lines  of  neat  white  bundles,  ready  to  be 
loaded  on  the  pack-mule  train,  now  hurrying  with 
the  customary  kicks  and  squeals  out  of  the  brigade 
corral.  The  regiment  was  going  back  on  the  picket 
line,  about  a  mile  from  Camp  Butler  and  very  close 
to  Waverley.  Reports  had  come  to  General  Wool 
that  Mugruder  was  coming  too  close. 

"They  do  things  better  than  they  did  at  Bull 
Run,"  was  the  General's  approving  comment  upon 
their  manner  of  breaking  camp.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, seem  much  interested  in  the  proceedings  of 
the  regiment.  His  eyes  passed  over  the  swarming 
camp  ground,  over  the  black  line  of  the  Newport 
News  batteries,  where  the  artillerymen  were  loung- 
ing in  the  shade  of  the  big  guns,  over  the  sunlit 
wash  of  waves  to  the  Union  warships  anchored  in 
the  Roads.  Boats  full  of  sailors,  on  shore  leave, 
were  putting  off  toward  Hampton  town.  Other 
boats  were  returning  almost  empty,  barges  and  cut- 
ters and  "bum-boats"  were  at  the  booms,  the  rig- 
ging was  strung  with  drying    clothes.     From    the 


74  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

looks  of  the  fleet  you  would  have  said  the  country 
was  at  peace. 

"Good !"  exclaimed  Von  Benzinger,  "They  do 
not  believe  in  ironclads.  We  shall  see."  He  took 
his  field  glasses  from  the  saddle,  and  through  them 
looked  across  the  Roads,  scanning  the  line  of  the 
Elizabeth  River.  In  the  blue  air,  above  the  point  of 
woods  between  the  river  and  the  Roads,  hung  a 
cloud  of  coal  smoke  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand. 

"The  Merrimac  has  finished  coaling,"  murmured 
General  von  Benzinger,  "she  is  getting  up  steam. 
Before  night  falls,  Mr.  Gideon  Welles  will  believe 
in  ironclad  ships." 

"Yes,"  he  mused,  "and  so  will  Virginia  Eggles- 
ton,  the  fair  Confederate." 

The  sun  was  shining  upon  Hampton  Roads. 
Far  to  the  northward,  ofif  the  Atlantic  coast,  a  storm 
was  raging.  Her  low  deck  swept  by  the  heavy  seas, 
cascades  of  water  pouring  under  her  turret  and 
drenching  the  submarine  berth-deck,  on  her  way 
from  New  York  to  Washington,  sank  and  rose  the 
Monitor,  plowing  through  that  storm. 


HAMILTON.  7S 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HAMILTON. 

Returning  to  the  Minnesota  from  his  official  visit 
to  the  fort,  Lieutenant  Earl  Hamilton  ran  lightly 
up  the  steps  from  the  cutter  to  the  quarter  deck. 
He  was  a  splendid  fellow — over  six  feet — a  two 
hundred  pounder  in  perfect  condition — with  huge 
chest  and  long,  powerful  arms — a  clean-cut,  gray- 
eyed,  square-jawed,  American  sailorman — simple, 
healthy,  and  strong,  in  body  and  soul. 

Going  to  the  junior  officers'  cabin,  he  found 
awaiting  him  the  note,  sealed  with  the  Eggleston 
crest  and  addressed  in  Virginia's  well-known  hand 
— to  him.  Odd  that  such  a  big  animal's  heart  will 
thump  twice  as  fast  at  the  sight  of  a  bit  of  daintily 
scratched  paper !  The  Lieutenant  sought  solitude 
and  sat  down,  carrying  the  note  as  though  it  were  a 
great,  gauzy  butterfly,  from  the  wings  of  which 
must  be  brushed  no  golden  dust.     Cutting  the  pa- 


76  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

per  close  about  the  seal,  he  unfolded  the  sheet  and 
read: 

My  Dear  Earl: — 

I  am  very  cross  at  you.  Here  you  have  been  literally 
within  sight  of  us  for  nearly  a  week — 

"Yes,  two  days,"  commented  Earl. 
— and  we  have  had  no  word  or  glimpse  of  you. 

"Blessed  inconsistency!"  exclaimed  Earl.  "The 
last  time  I  saw  her  she  said,  'never  let  me  see  you 
while  you  wear  that  hated  uniform.'  " 

Of  course,  I  was  terribly  hurt  and  angry  when  you  first 
told  me  you  meant  to  desert  the  South,  and  I  may  have 
said  more  than  I  meant.  But  I  do  want  to  see  you,  Earl, 
very  badly — and  there  is  a  serious  reason  why  it  must  be 
today.  I  cannot  tell  you  this  reason  until  you  come.  You 
must  come,  and  I  will  accept  no  excuse  about  not  being 
able  to  get  leave.     You  must  come. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Virginia  Eggleston. 

Waverley,  March  8,  1862. 

Fifteen  minutes  later,  a  big  naval  lieutenant  was 
ashore,  in  the  street  of  a  light  artillery  battery, 
brazenly  borrowing  the  horse  of  an  astonished  sub- 
altern, whom  he  had  never  in  his  life  seen  before. 

"Thanks,  old  fellow,"  he  called  to  the  owner,  as 
he  mounted,  "I'm  only  going  a  mile,  and  I  won't 
hurt  him."  The  Lieutenant  rode  well  for  a  sailor, 
and  went  dashing  past  regiment  after  regiment  till 


HAMILTON.  77 

he  breasted  the  barren  rise,  crossed  the  stream,  and 
struck  into  the  scrub-oak  woods  through  which 
Von  Benzinger  had  ridden  down  but  a  short  time 
before.  Today  these  two  men  were  ignorant  of 
each  other's  existence,  tomorrow  they  would  be 
mortal  enemies,  face  to  face  in  their  death  struggle. 
Had  Von  Benzinger  seen  the  naval  officer  riding 
that  morning  toward  Waverley,  many  a  wild  scene 
of  that  Saturday  night  and  Sunday  morning  would 
never  have  been  acted.  Upon  a  circumstance  so 
slight  depended  the  fates  of  these  men  and  this 
woman.  Unconscious  of  the  dread  control  of 
things  to  come,  Hamilton  cantered  briskly  through 
the  woods.  Like  Von  Benzinger,  it  was  long  since 
Hamilton  had  talked  with  a  fine  girl.  It  wouldn't 
have  mattered,  however,  if  he  had  talked  with  one, 
unless  she  happened  to  be  this  particular  fine  girl, 
Virginia,  who,  for  years,  had  absorbed  all  his  great 
capacity  for  loving.  His  love  for  her  was  the  un- 
dercurrent of  all  his  thinking  and  living.  He 
couldn't  get  away  from  it.  It  was  there,  tugging  at 
him  day  and  night,  near  her  or  far  from  her.  Nat- 
urally, his  love  had  made  him  very  unhappy,  since 
the  war  first  rent  the  nation,  and,  as  it  then  looked, 
had  torn  her  from  him.  No  Southerner  who  re- 
mained true  to  the  old  flag  had  sacrificed  more  for 
it  than  he,  for  he  had  given  up  his  hope  of  win- 


78  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ning  her — his  very  heart.  Perhaps  only  a  man  who 
has  learned  obedience  as  a  sailor  learns  it — a  man 
who  knows  how  to  submit  his  own  desires  to  a 
higher  law — is  capable  of  such  love  as  Hamilton  felt 
for  Virginia.  Now,  when  he  was  actually  coming 
back  to  her,  as  in  the  old  days,  love  rose  from  the 
depths  of  his  heart  and  seemed  to  fill  his  lungs 
deeper  and  deeper,  and  spread  through  his  brain, 
and  throbbed  in  all  his  blood,  and  took  possession 
of  his  will.  He  turned  down  the  shell  road  and  saw 
the  ivy-grown,  familiar  walls  of  Waverley,  and  the 
places  his  memory  had  consecrated  to  her.  And  off 
there,  under  the  trees,  the  great  magnolia  blossoms 
swaying,  indolent,  behind  her,  was  she  herself — 
alone — waiting  for  him.  He  dismounted  and  threw 
the  bridle  rein  over  a  spike  on  the  wall.  She  was 
facing  the  bay,  his  back  was  toward  it  as  he  came 
up  to  her. 

"How  are  you,  Earl?"  she  said. 

"I'm  happy,  Virginia — happier  than  I  ever 
thought  I'd  be  again."  He  looked  as  if  he  was 
dying  to  kiss  her,  but  didn't  dare.  "And  you,  dear 
girl? — I  declare,  you  look  happy  yourself." 

"I'm  not,  though.  Earl.  No,  I'm  most  unhappy, 
and  that  is  why  I  sent  for  you.  Why  did  you  make 
me  write,  you  naughty  boy." 


HAMILTON.  79 

"How  could  I  come,  dear  one?  After  what  you 
said  last  spring,  how  could  I  come  ?" 

"Last  spring?  And  in  a  whole  year  mayn't  I 
change  my  mind  ?    You  great — man." 

He  heard  the  playful  tenderness  of  her  voice,  he 
saw  the  happy  curving  of  her  lips,  the  glad  dwelling 
of  her  eyes  on  his,  and  rapture  seized  him.  Impul- 
sively he  tried  to  catch  her  in  his  arms.  She  pushed 
him  back  with  her  hand. 

"Wait !"  she  said,  and  then  realization  of  the  im- 
plied promise  in  the  word  crimsoned  her  face. 
"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  she  cried.  "You  mustn't, 
indeed  you  must  not,  Earl." 

"You  madden  me,  Virginia.  You  hold  your  love 
before  me,  so  close,  so  dear,  and  then — " 

"Then?  Why,  then,  I  ask  some  proof  of  your 
love.  Earl." 

"My  love?"  he  cried.  "Virginia,  from  that 
Christmas  day,  four  years  ago,  when  I  came  back  to 
Waverley  and  found  the  little  girl  a  woman — a 
child-woman,  if  you  will — you  know  that  I  have 
loved  you.  I  didn't  know  a  man  could  love  a 
woman  so !  And  it's  been  mostly  hopeless  love, 
Virginia-girl.  I  knew  your  father  wanted  Lafe  to 
have  you ;  but — I  couldn't  help  believing  you  cared 
more  for  me.  That  made  it  worse,  dear  one,  to 
feel  I  was  so  close  to  winning  you,  and  yet  I  could 


80  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

not.  And  when,  last  year,  you  refused  me,  sent  me 
away,  called  me  a  traitor,  I  would  have  welcomed 
death  in  battle ;  yes,  I  cursed  my  life,  I  cursed  my 
state,  I  cursed  the  South,  whose  insane  rebellion 
took  you  from  me." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  bitterly,  "you  cursed  the  South, 
your  own  land,  your  own  people.  Why,  Earl,  you 
cursed  mc  when  you  cursed  the  South." 

"Oh  Virginia,  do  not  begin  that  again.  It  tears 
my  heart — I  cannot  stand  it." 

Virginia,  standing  so  that  her  eyes  could  catch 
the  frigate  Congress,  suddenly  noticed  a  great 
change  in  the  looks  of  the  ship.  Men  were  swarm- 
ing over  the  yards,  the  drying  clothes  were  stripped 
from  the  rigging,  the  furled  sails  were  flapping 
open,  boats  were  swinging  up  on  the  davits,  and  the 
decks  were  alive  with  hurrying  men.  Steaming 
out  of  the  Elizabeth  River,  could  she  have  seen  it, 
was  the  strange  shape  of  the  Merrimac,  in  full  view 
now  of  the  Union  fleet.  But  Virginia  did  not  need 
to  see,  she  felt,  she  knew.  "The  Merrimac!"  she 
thought,  and,  turning  pale,  she  gave  a  little  gasp 
of  fear.  Earl's  own  emotion  kept  him  from  seeing 
the  cause  of  hers,  and  in  an  instant  she  had  mas- 
tered herself, 

"You  are  right.  Earl,  we  cannot  talk  of  that,"  said 
she.    He  must  not  see  the  ships,  she  must  keep  him 


"  Come,"  she  said,  giving  him  her  hand,  and  turuing  away  from  the  bay. 


HAMILTON.  81 

out  of  that  hopeless  battle.  "Come,"  she  said, 
giving  him  her  hand,  and  turning  away  from  the 
bay.  "Come,  say  'how  do  you  do'  to  the  dear  old 
stump  where  the  teeter-board  was." 

"The  teeter-board?"  he  said,  turning  with  relief 
from  the  gulf  that  neither  he  nor  she  could  cross, 
and  delightedly  walking  hand  in  hand  with  her. 
"Do  you  remember  the  teeter-board?  Dear  me,  it 
seems  like  yesterday — or,  rather — when  you  think 
of  all  that  has  come  since,  and  how  impossible  it  is 
to  bring  back  that  sweet  old  time — why,  then,  it 
seems  like  a  dead  life  in  some  other  world." 

"Yet,  we  are  the  same  two  people,"  said  she. 

"The  very  same,"  he  answered,  "and  if  you  loved 
me,  Virginia,  we  would  be  the  same  forever." 

"If  you  loved  me,"  she  said,  "you  would  do  some- 
thing for  me." 

"And  what  may  that  something  be?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  say  you'll  do  it." 

"And  then,  perhaps,  I  couldn't,    I  must  know." 

"Stay  here  with  me  today." 

"Now,  queerly  enough,  little  girl,  that  is  pre- 
cisely what  I  mean  to  do." 

"You  don't  have  to  go  back  to  the  ship  at  all  to- 
day?" 

"Not  at  all,  today.  I've  leave  till  morning.  The 
Captain  grumbled,  but  I  got  it." 


82  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Then  promise  me  you  won't  go  back  today." 

"Why  promise,  sweet?    I  do  not  mean  to  go." 

"But  promise,  promise  me  you'll  stay." 

"It's  very  sweet,  little  one,  to  have  you  so  earn- 
est about  it." 

"Then  promise." 

"Well,  I  promise." 

"You  won't  go  even  if  the  Merrimac  attacks  the 
fleet." 

"You  needn't  worry  about  that,  I  guess." 

"But,  if  it  does?" 

"Is  the  Merrimac  your  serious  reason  why  I 
should  come  here  today?" 

She  did  not  answer. 

"The  Merrimac  has  been  a  bugaboo  too  long," 
he  said.  "We  do  not  think  of  her.  But  if  you 
thought  my  ship  today  would  be  in  battle,  would 
you  have  me  here — a  coward  ?" 

"No  coward.  Earl,  no  man  can  call  you  that.  But 
the  Northern  sailors  have  no  hope — their  vessels 
will  be  crushed,  and  you — what  right  have  you — a 
Southerner — to  share  their  fate?  You  have  no 
business  there." 

"You  know  I  have,  Virginia."  His  voice  was 
very  quiet,  very  firm. 

From  the  bay  came  the  sound  of  a  big  gun.  They 
stood  an  instant,  listening.  Then  came  the  roar  of 
many. 


HAMILTON.  83 

"That's  no  salute,"  he  cried  with  alarm.  "The 
Merrimac  has  come." 

Quickly  he  made  a  step  to  go,  and  was  detained 
by  Virginia's  arms,  "Earl !  Earl !"  she  said,  "I  love 
you,  Earl." 

For  an  instant  he  forgot  the  booming  guns,  his 
ship,  his  duty — everything  in  the  whole  world,  but 
the  clasp  of  her  arms,  the  light  in  her  eyes,  and  the 
blending  of  her  soul  with  his.  Their  lips  met,  and 
in  that  kiss  their  stubborn  wills  forgot  their  strug- 
gle and  were  one. 

The  thunder  of  the  guns  burst  forth  afresh. 

"My  ship,  my  ship,"  he  groaned,  struggling  in 
his  heart  to  break  the  toil  of  love.  "I  must  go — 
quickly — now." 

He  had  to  use  force  to  free  himself.  "Oh,  you 
do  not  love  me,  you  do  not  care  for  my  love,"  she 
moaned. 

"I  swear,  Virginia,  by  all  holy  things,  I  love  you 
better  than  life,  than  everything,  than  all  the  world." 

"Prove  it,  then.  Stay  here.  You  promised  that 
you'd  stay." 

"I  cannot,  I  cannot  leave  my  ship." 

"Won't  you  sacrifice  an  imaginary  duty  for  my 
love?" 

"I  cannot,  Virginia,  I  cannot." 

"Oh,  I  hate  you." 

6 


84  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

He  shrank  as  though  someone  had  struck  him  in 
the  face.  "Virginia,"  he  said,  solemnly,  "I  hope  I 
shall  be  killed  in  that  battle." 

"No,  no,  no,  forgive  me.  I  did  not  mean  it ; 
oh,  I  love  you,  Earl,  my  Earl !"  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  saw  Virginia  cry — great  sobs  like  a 
man's — deep — convulsing  her  whole  body,  and  she 
swayed  forward,  helpless,  in  his  arms. 

From  the  bay  came  the  roar  of  a  hundred  guns — 
dreadful — filling  the  world. 


THE  MERRIMAC.  85 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Before  the  battle  opened,  General  von  Ben- 
zinger,  having  given  orders  for  the  establishment  of 
his  troops  on  the  picket  line,  had  ridden  down  to 
the  shore.  He  sat  calmly  on  his  black  horse  and 
awaited  the  slow  approach  of  the  Merrimac.  He 
watched  the  excitement  of  the  soldiers  in  Camp 
Butler,  the  hurried  preparations  of  the  artillerymen 
of  the  Newport  News  battery.  He  watched  the 
great  ram  draw  near,  while  cannon-balls  from  ship 
and  shore  glanced  like  harmless  hail  from  her  slant- 
ing sides  of  iron.  He  watched  her  beak  plow 
through  the  side  of  the  Cumberland,  and  saw  the 
gallant  sloop  go  down  with  cheering  crew  and  blaz- 
ing guns  and  flying  flags. 

The  Cumberland  sunk,  the  Merrimac  turned  pon- 
derously, sending  her  great  shells  crashing  into 
the  shore  batteries.     Then  she  made  for  the  Con- 


86  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

gress,  whose  pilot  had  run  her  hard  aground  on 
Hampton  bar.  It  was  slow,  methodical,  merciless. 
The  good  ship  was  raked,  shattered,  set  afire,  and 
half  her  crew  shot  down  without  being  able  to  bring 
a  gun  to  bear.  Having  dispatched  her  second  vic- 
tim, the  Merrimac  turned  imperturbably  eastward 
to  the  Minnesota,  hard  aground,  even  as  the  Con- 
gress. Beyond  her  were  the  Roanoke  and  St.  Law- 
rence, also  hard  aground.  The  Federal  fleet  could 
neither  fight  nor  run.  Von  Benzinger  observed  the 
peculiar  piloting,  but  alone  of  all  the  men  on  shore 
and  sea  he  showed  no  excitement,  made  no  move- 
ment, gave  no  sign.  The  Merrimac's  shells  now  fell 
upon  the  Minnesota. 

Under  the  frigate's  lofty  rail  a  little  steamer,  like 
a  frightened  fawn,  had  taken  refuge  from  the  Merri- 
mac. From  shore  put  out  a  large  skifif,  rowed  rap- 
idly by  a  single  man.  As  the  skiff  neared  the  frig- 
ate, one  of  the  Merrimac's  shells  struck  the  little 
steamer.  Her  boiler  exploded,  tearing  her  almost 
in  two,  killing  and  wounding  several  of  her  men. 
Fragments  of  iron  knocked  splinters  from  the  side 
of  the  Minnesota.  The  little  steamer  sank  almost 
immediately,  her  crew  leaping  to  avoid  the  suction 
of  her  plunge.  Shells  screamed  and  burst.  The 
man  in  the  skiff  rowed  about  picking  up  the  sur- 
vivors,  one — two — three — four,   and   then   a   man 


THE  MERRIMAC.  87 

evidently  more  dead  than  alive.  The  crew  of  the 
Minnesota  cheered  as  the  man  from  the  skiff  took 
the  wounded  sailor  in  his  arms  and  carried  him  up 
the  ladder  to  the  deck.  Not  far  behind  Von  Ben- 
zinger  a  dismounted  artillery  subaltern  was  watch- 
ing the  incident. 

"Hanged  if  that  isn't  the  cool  chap  who  took  my 
horse !"  exclaimed  the  subaltern.  "What  has  he 
done  with  my  horse?" 

"By  Jimtown,"  drawled  a  newspaper  correspond- 
ent, who  came  up  just  in  time  to  see  the  man  from 
the  boat.  "That's  Earl  Hamilton!  Won't  he  be 
sore  ?" 

"Earl  Hamilton,  is  it?"  grunted  the  subaltern. 
"I  wish  he'd  bring  my  horse  back.  Why  will  he 
be  sore?" 

"Three  months  ago  he  hired  these  cussed  pilots 
for  the  fleet.  Look  at  'em  now !"  Every  Federal 
ship  in  the  Roads  was  at  that  moment  aground. 

General  von  Benzinger  seemed  to  pay  no  atten- 
tion to  this  talk.  But  he  listened  keenly,  and  noted, 
for  possible  use,  the  name  of  Earl  Hamilton — the 
man  who  hired  the  pilots. 

WiUis  caught  sight  of  Von  Benzinger  and  low- 
ered his  voice.  "What's  he  doing  here?"  The 
newspaper  man  had  the  simon-pure  American's 
usually  unjustifiable  distrust  of  a  well-bred  for- 
eigner. 


88  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Looking  on,  I  suppose,"  said  the  subaltern. 
"That's  about  all  anybody  can  do,"  he  added,  rue- 
fully. "That  damned  turtle  don't  care  how  much 
you  pitch  shot  at  her.  Look  at  those  fool  infantry- 
men up  there  shooting  musket  balls  at  her." 

"His  command's  back  on  the  picket  line  facing 
Magruder,"  said  Willis,  observing  without  com- 
ment the  "fool  infantrymen." 

"His?"  grinned  the  subaltern,  indicating  the 
General.  "You  better  tell  him  so."  To  the  subal- 
tern it  was  beyond  human  audacity  to  address  a 
brigadier  unless  he  spoke  first.  Willis  was  dif- 
ferent. 

"I  say,  General,"  he  called  out,  "what  are  you 
doing  down  here?" 

Von  Benzinger  looked  for  an  instant  at  Willis 
as  though  he  were  not  going  to  answer.  Then  his 
lips  curled  with  a  trace  of  scorn,  and  he  said, 
slowly : 

"I  have  seen  strange  things,  but  never  before 
now  have  I  seen  men  shoot  spit-balls  at  the  hippo- 
potamus." 

"Good  phrase.  General,  I'll  print  that.  You 
should  have  been  a  newspaper  man." 

The  dignified  officer  raised  his  shoulders,  ex- 
pressing lack  of  appreciation  for  the  profession. 


THE  MERRIMAC.  89 

"I  suppose  you  enjoy  this  sight  about  as  much  as 
the  rest  of  us,"  added  Willis,  dolefully  nodding  at 
the  bay. 

"The  North  refused  to  build  a  Merrimac.  She 
reaps  what  she  has  sown."  Von  Benzinger  turned 
his  horse  away,  as  though  the  interview  were  dis- 
tasteful. Then,  turning  back  with  a  new  thought, 
he  said,  more  cordially,  "Do  you  happen  to  know 
who  that  fine  fellow  is  who  rescued  those  men  in 
the  water?" 

Willis  was,  habitually,  more  willing  to  gather 
than  to  give  information,  but  he  judged  it  well  to 
atone  for  his  familiarity  with  the  General. 

"That's  Hamilton,"  he  said,  "Lieutenant  Hamil- 
ton, on  the  Minnesota — a  Southerner  true  to  the 
Union." 

"I  met  the  Minnesota's  officers,"  said  Von  Ben- 
zinger, "and  he  was  not  among  them." 

"Been  in  the  Charleston  flotilla  the  last  three 
months.  He's  back  just  in  time  to  be  slaughtered 
by  the  Merrimac." 

"Thanks  to  his  Government's  blindness,"  said 
Von  Benzinger,  his  face  darkening  and  his  voice 
pitiless.  Then,  realizing  that  he  had  been  a  trifle 
indiscreet,  he  added,  "I  feel  that  if  the  Government 
had  listened  to  me,  we  would  long  ago  have  had  a 


90  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Merrimac,  and  this" — he  swept  his  hand  across  the 
scene  of  the  sea  fight — "this  disaster  would  never 
have  occurred." 

Having  skillfully  obtained  a  bit  of  information 
that  interested  him,  Von  Benzinger  bade  Willis  a 
rather  curt  "good  day,"  and  rode  oflF. 

"The  spiteful  old  devil  acts  as  though  he  were 
glad  of  the  Merrimac's  work,"  observed  Willis  to 
the  subaltern. 

"He  simply  resented  your  manner  of  addressing 
him,"  replied  the  scandalized  young  officer. 

"He  didn't  seem  fiattered,"  admitted  Willis. 
"But  he's  a  crank  on  iron  ships  and  this  gives  him 
a  chance  to  say,  Ttold  you  so.'  " 

The  Merrimac,  during  this  colloquy,  had  been 
pounding  the  Minnesota  at  long  range.  She  was 
keeping  out  of  the  shoal  water  in  the  north  chan- 
nel, which  had  proved  so  disastrous  to  the  Union 
ships.  Finally,  about  five  o'clock,  deciding  that 
she  could  do  her  work  better  at  high  tide  tomor- 
row, she  turned  slowly  back  to  Norfolk.  She  had 
destroyed,  that  afternoon,  two  ships  and  near  four 
hundred  men,  and  the  worst  of  it  was,  she  had 
demonstrated  her  power  to  destroy,  single-handed, 
the  whole  wooden  navy  of  the  North.  That  night 
it  seemed  that  nothing  could  harm,  and  nothing  re- 
sist, the  iron-sheathed  ram.     Today  the  Congress 


THE  MERRIMAC.  91 

and  the  Cumberland,  tomorrow  the  Minnesota,  the 
Roanoke  and  St.  Lawrence.  Wood  was  at  the 
mercy  of  iron,  the  Union  was  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Confederacy.  Heroism,  of  which  there  had  been 
plenty,  could  not  overcome  the  odds.  Before  the 
Merrimac,  men  died  and  ships  went  down  in  vain. 
That  night  the  sailors  knew  it  was  in  vain,  the 
watching  thousands  knew.  By  means  of  telegram 
and  bulletin,  the  South  knew  and  exulted,  the 
North  knew  and  despaired.  In  Richmond,  Mallory 
and  Davis;  in  Washington,  Welles  and  Lincoln 
learned — with  how  different  emotions — that  the 
control  of  the  sea  had  passed  from  North  to  South. 
The  Merrimac  could  sink  ships,  pass  batteries,  raise 
the  blockade  of  all  Confederate  ports,  bombard  or 
levy  tribute  on  every  Northern  sea-port,  and,  if  she 
chose,  lay  Washington  in  ashes.  Barges  and  canal 
boats  full  of  stone  were  held  in  readiness  to  ob- 
struct, at  a  moment's  notice,  the  path  of  the  Merri- 
mac up  the  Potomac.  Huge  guns  were  hastily 
mounted  on  the  shore.  The  Governors  of  Maine, 
Massachusetts  and  New  York  were  wired  immedi- 
ately to  place  heavy  batteries  behind  great  rafts  of 
timber.  The  commandant  of  every  Atlantic  fort 
and  earthwork  was  ordered  to  regard  the  enemy  as 
being  actually  present  in  his  front.  No  one  knew 
where  or  when  the  terrible  ship  would  strike,  and 


92  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

all  was  panic.  Men  lost  their  heads.  Stanton  tele- 
graphed Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  asking  how  much 
he  would  take  to  destroy  the  Merrimac — a  queer 
instance  of  American  reliance  on  the  power  of 
money.  In  Washington  houses  Senators  and  Cabi- 
net officers  sat  together,  deep  into  the  night,  con- 
ferring with  engineers  and  experts.  They  listened, 
uneasily,  at  open  windows,  half  expecting  to  hear, 
breaking  the  stillness,  the  thunder  of  the  Merri- 
mac's  great  guns.  That  one  structure  of  wood 
and  iron  struck  greater  terror  to  the  nation's  heart 
than  all  the  power  of  Johnston's  victorious  regi- 
ments at  Bull  Run. 

When  the  low  tide  stopped  at  last  the  carnage 
of  that  day,  when  the  rack  and  ruin  was  over,  and 
the  Merrimac,  leaving  till  the  morrow  her  certain 
prey,  steamed  quietly  back  to  Norfolk,  then  Gen- 
eral von  Benzinger  turned  serenely  from  the  shore 
and  rode  up  through  the  woods  to  Waverley. 


THE  MASK.  93 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  MASK. 

When  Von  Benzinger  arrived  at  his  newly  estab- 
lished headquarters,  near  Waverley,  he  found  the 
senior  colonel  of  his  brigade  in  a  great  state  of 
agitation.  During  the  sea  fight,  a  Confederate  line 
of  battle  had  advanced  within  a  thousand  yards  of 
the  Union  pickets,  which  were  only  a  mile  and  a 
half  back  of  Newport  News,  thus  bringing  Waver- 
ley between  the  opposing  lines.  The  Colonel  be- 
lieved that  Magruder  was  about  to  throw  his  whole 
force  upon  the  most  advanced  regiment,  in  a  land 
co-operation  with  the  Merrimac's  attack  upon 
Newport  News.  Consequently,  he  was  hurrying 
another  regiment  from  its  camp  on  the  slope  of  the 
hill  to  the  picket  line  back  over  the  crest.  One  bat- 
talion had  already  passed  through  the  fields  of 
Waverley,  in  line  of  battle,  and  another  was  march- 
ing in  column  past  the  house.  Von  Benzinger  sent 
staff  officers  flying  with  angry  orders  to  the  nerv- 
ous Colonel. 


94  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Tell  Colonel  Middleton  to  march  that  regiment 
back  and  give  it  its  supper,"  he  said.  To  that  crest- 
fallen officer's  explanation  of  the  danger  and  the 
necessity  of  meeting  it,  Von  Benzinger  replied,  de- 
cisively, "Magruder  will  not  attack.  Let  him 
alone." 

"But  he's  there  already — in  line  of  battle,''  pro- 
tested the  Colonel. 

"He  has  four  thousand  men  to  our  twelve.  He 
must  hold  two  roads  ten  miles  apart.  He  will  not 
attack." 

"Then  why,  in  the  name  of  goodness,  don't  we 
attack  ?"  exclaimed  the  Colonel. 

"That,  if  you  wish,  you  may  ask  General  Wool. 
Or,"  he  added,  with  stinging  sweetness,  "you  might 
telegraph  McClellan." 

The  Colonel  subsided  and  went  to  his  regiment. 
The  General's  tent  being  already  set  up,  he  dis- 
mounted, and  turned  Thetis  over  to  his  "striker," 
or  "dog-robber" — the  names  given  by  the  men  to 
an  officer's  personal  servant.  The  cook  and  kitch- 
en police,  undisturbed  by  the  rumors  of  impend- 
ing battle,  were  preparing  supper  for  the  General 
and  his  staff.  Three  orderlies  were  playing  cards 
on  an  army  blanket  not  far  from  the  tent  door. 
They  had  come  to  attention  and  saluted  when  the 
General  appeared,  and  upon  his  acknowledgment, 


THE  MASK.  95 

had  gone  back  to  their  game.  The  General  did  not 
notice  it,  for  he  had  learned  to  accommodate  him- 
self to  the  comparatively  free  and  easy  ways  of 
American  soldiering.  He  threw  himself  upon  the 
grass  and  luxuriated  for  a  moment  in  the  relaxation 
from  his  long-maintained  position  on  horseback. 
From  the  still  burning  frigate  in  the  bay,  and  the 
battle  whose  result  contained  so  much  personal  sat- 
isfaction for  him,  his  thoughts  came  back  to  the 
house  at  Waverley,  whose  red-roofed  stone  towers 
showed  amid  the  tree  tops  on  the  hill.  The  image 
of  Virginia,  as  he  had  seen  her  that  morning,  came 
back  into  his  mind  with  an  exquisite  shock.  Enter- 
taining the  image  for  a  moment,  a  new  thought 
struck  him,  and  he  said  to  himself,  "Why  not?" 

"Orderly,"  he  called.  The  three  youths  leaped 
up,  dropping  their  cards  in  confusion  on  the 
blanket.  "You  will  come  with  me,"  he  said,  pick- 
ing the  best  looking  one,  "and  you,"  addressing  the 
others,  "will  give  my  compliments  to  Captain 
Geary  and  tell  him  I've  gone  to  Waverley — the 
house  on  the  hill.  Also  that  my  headquarters  may, 
perhaps,  be  moved  there  immediately  after  supper." 

The  General  soon  appeared  at  Waverley,  where 
he  found  Mrs.  Poynter,  the  Squire,  and  the  darkies 
greatly  excited  over  the  marching  and  counter- 
marching of  the  Union  troops,  and  the  rumors  that 


96  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

there  was  to  be  a  battle  with  the  Confederates 
"right  in  our  back  yard,"  as  Mrs.  Poynter  had  it. 
Von  Benzinger  reassured  them  as  to  the  danger  of 
a  battle,  explaining  that  had  he  himself  been  pres- 
ent, the  alarming  demonstrations  would  never  have 
occurred. 

"You  dear,  good,  considerate  thing,"  said  Mrs. 
Poynter,  enthusiastically.  "I  might  have  known 
you  were  too  polite  to  have  a  battle  here,  where 
we'd  be  killed.  And  so  you  stopped  it !  I  do  be- 
lieve you  can  do  anything.  General  von  Benzinger, 
and  I'm  very  grateful  to  you,  and" — she  added, 
seeing  the  General's  eyes  wandering  into  the  house 
— "I'm  sure  Virginia  will  be,  too,  poor  dear." 

"I  regret  that  you  were  alarmed.  It  was  so  need- 
less," said  the  General,  who  was  not  unwilling, 
however,  to  have  credit  for  saving  Waverley  from 
fire  and  sword. 

"You  are  a  Federal  General,  sah,"  said  Squire 
Henderson,  mopping  his  brow;  "you  are  a  Fed- 
eral General,  and  yet,  sah,  I  agree  with  you.  The 
alarm  of  the  ladies  was  certainly  exaggerated." 

"How  about  your  own.  Squire?"  asked  Mrs. 
Poynter. 

"My  alarm,  Mrs.  Poynter!  My  alarm?  I  may 
lack  the  physical  vigoh,  ma'am,  to  resist  invaders 
on  the  field  of  battle,  but  I  told  you,  Mrs.  Poyntah, 


THE  MASK.  97 

that  life  an'  prop'rty  'd  be  a  mighty  sight  safah  if 
the  Yankees  were  driven  from  the  soil  of  this  penin- 
sula." Having  given  this  indisputable  proof  of  his 
valor,  the  Squire  looked  anxiously  at  the  General 
to  see  if  he  were  offended.  Von  Benzinger,  how- 
ever, was  impatiently  waiting  for  him  to  finish  his 
speech. 

"Is  Miss  Eggleston  to  be  seen  ?"  he  asked. 

"I'll  call  her,  General ;  come  in." 

"Whah's  Joe?"  said  the  Squire.  "I  declare,  Mrs. 
Poyntah,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  I'll  have  to  hunt  up 
that  niggah  o'  mine." 

Mrs.  Poynter,  having  already  entered  the  house 
without  a  word  to  the  old  fellow,  we  may  safely  as- 
sume that  she  was  willing  to  excuse  him.  Von 
Benzinger,  leaving  his  orderly  outside,  followed 
Mrs.  Poynter  into  the  library,  in  the  west  corner  of 
the  house.  He  was  struck  by  the  rich  suits  of  steel 
armor  standing  with  spear  and  shield,  like  guard- 
ians of  the  big  hall.  "Judge  Eggleston's  mediae - 
valism  seems  genuine,"  thought  Von  Benzinger  ; 
and  the  dark  old  tapestries  which  covered  the  li- 
brary wall  above  the  bookcases  confirmed  the 
thought.  The  last  level  ray  of  the  sunlight 
through  the  northwest  window,  fell  on  a  huntsman 
spiritedly  winding  his  horn  to  his  hounds  amid  the 
woods,  a  lady  hawking,  and  a  four-towered  castle, 


98  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

which  might  almost  have  been  Waverley  itself,  ex- 
cept for  moat  and  bridge.  Von  Benzinger,  wait- 
ing for  Miss  Eggleston,  divined  that  here,  in  the 
Virginia  of  '62,  more  than  anywhere  else  in 
the  world,  was  preserved  the  provincial  spirit  of 
feudalism,  a  late  imitation,  at  least,  of  the  life  of 
knight  and  lady.  Even  the  ridiculous  old  Squire 
had  a  touch  of  the  manner.  And,  mingling  in  his 
own  veins  the  blood  of  noble  and  peasant,  the  thing 
appealed  to  Von  Benzinger. 

Virginia  was  upstairs,  in  her  room,  of  which  the 
windows  gave  views  upon  the  Roads.  Since 
noon  she  had  lived  months — before  tomorrow's 
sunset  she  was  to  live  years.  Her  love  for  Earl 
Hamilton  had  flamed  up  in  full  force  and  con- 
sciousness, kindling  her  whole  nature,  showing  her 
that  her  father's  wish,  her  love  of  country,  must, 
whether  she  would  or  no,  take  second  place  within 
her  heart.  And  he,  loving  her  as  she  knew  he  did, 
even  when  she  brought  the  full  power  of  her  love 
and  will  to  bear  upon  him,  was  still  unshakable 
inflexible  as  steel,  and  true  to  honor.  Yes,  honor 
was  a  thing  he  loved  more  than  he  loved  her,  and 
when  she  found  it  so,  she  loved  him  more — yes, 
more  than  honor. 

And  yet,  the  dreadful  battle !  Hour  by  hour  she 
watched  the  fearful  odds  work  out  the  merciless  re- 


THE  MASK.  99 

suit.  The  Cumberland  sunk,  the  Congress  set 
afire,  she  saw,  with  agony,  the  great  shells  crash 
into  the  Minnesota — his  ship — whither  he  had  gone 
out  of  her  arms,  nor  could  Love  hold  him  back, 

Mrs.  Poynter  had  come  to  her  door  and  told  her 
of  the  imminent  battle  about  the  house. 

"I  do  not  care,  I  do  not  care,"  she  moaned,  and 
refused  to  unlock  the  door.  The  fate  of  the  other 
ships  had  caused  her  to  abandon  all  hope  that  the 
Minnesota  or  Earl  would  be  spared.  The  Merri- 
mac  was  freeing  her  country  and  tearing  her  heart. 

But  when  the  Merrimac  drew  ofif,  and  the  Minne- 
sota, unlike  the  other  ships,  was  not  destroyed,  Vir- 
ginia's hopes  revived,  and  she  had  hurried  one  of 
the  negroes  off  to  learn  of  her  lover's  fate. 

As  Mrs.  Poynter  stepped  into  the  hall  from  the 
library,  where  she  had  left  Von  Benzinger,  her 
vision  passed  through  the  arch  into  the  parlor  and 
out  upon  the  southeast  gallery.  A  man  was  just 
ascending  the  steps.  Mrs.  Poynter  went  quickly 
into  the  parlor  and  out  through  the  French  win- 
dow. It  was  an  oysterman  sent  up  by  Hamilton, 
after  the  battle,  with  a  line  telling  Virginia  he  was 
unhurt. 

"Bless  the  dear  fellow's  heart,"  thought  Mrs. 
Poynter.  "It  will  be  like  pardon  to  a  woman  con- 
demned." She  flew  up  the  stairs  to  Virginia's 
7 


100  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

room,  shouting  "good  news"  at  the  top  of  her 
lungs.  This  time  the  door  opened  with  alacrity, 
and  when  Virginia's  eyes  had  caught  the  welcome 
words  that  told  her  Earl  was  safe,  she — well,  she 
was  all  unstrung,  and  very  happy,  and  forgot  en- 
tirely for  the  moment  that  the  battle  would  begin 
again  tomorrow. 

Then  Mrs.  Poynter  told  her  that  General  von 
Benzinger  had  come  back  from  the  bay,  and  he  had 
countermanded  the  battle  at  Waverley,  and  every- 
thing was  perfectly  lovely,  and  he  was  waiting 
down  stairs  to  see  her.  A  few  moments  later,  with 
the  quick  rebound  of  her  elastic  spirits,  a  radiant 
Virginia  greeted  Von  Benzinger. 

"Ah,  Miss  Eggleston,"  he  said,  smiling,  as  Vir- 
ginia gave  him  her  hand.  "I  take  it  that  Mrs. 
Poynter  has  relieved  your  anxiety  as  to  the  battle 
about  your  house." 

"Oh,  yes.  And  did  you  really,  as  she  said,  coun- 
termand the  battle?"  Virginia  laughed  musically 
at  the  absurd  phrase. 

"I  simply  countermanded  some  orders  which 
might  have  made  us  blunder  into  a  foolish  skir- 
mish." 

"How  lucky  for  us  that  you  came!  And  this 
morning,  too,"  she  said,  with  seriousness.  "That 
really  placed  us  deeply  in  your  debt — so  deeply  that 
we  can  never  repay  you." 


THE  MASK.  101 

"Ah,  easily,"  he  answered. 

"May  I  ask  how?  Anything  we  can  do,  I'm 
sure — " 

"Chiefly,  Miss  Eggleston,  by  letting  me  talk  to 
you."  A  discreet  cough  announced  Mrs.  Poynter 
descending  the  stairs. 

"Oh,  that  wouldn't  do  it.  I'm  sure  you  can 
think  of  better  payment  than  that,"  answered  Vir- 
ginia. 

"General  von  Benzinger,"  said  Mrs.  Poynter,  en- 
tering, "when  you  went  over  that  wall  this  morn- 
ing you  were  the  most  beautiful  thing  I  ever  laid 
eyes  on." 

"Dear  me,"  said  Virginia,  "you'll  make  the  Gen- 
eral vain.  Of  course  he  was,  but  you  mustn't  tell 
him  so.    And  what  a  beautiful  horse !" 

"Will  you  accept  the  horse.  Miss  Eggleston  ?"  he 
asked,  quickly. 

"Your  horse?"  she  said,  surprised,  "Why,  I 
could  not  do  that." 

"No,  she  couldn't  accept  it.  General,"  said  Mrs. 
Poynter,  quickly,  "but  I'm  sure  it  was  very  gallant 
of  you  to  offer  it.  Our  customs,  you  know — we 
all  bow  to  Mrs.  Grundy."  Mrs.  Poynter  felt  that 
the  foreign  gentleman  might  not  understand  the 
girl's  scruple,  and,  in  her  pell-mell  fashion,  rushed 


102  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  conversation  on  past  the  embarrassing  point. 
She  saved  the  situation,  and  soon  had  them  both 
talking  of  other  things. 

"Do  you  Hve  in  a  tent,  too,"  she  asked,  pres- 
ently. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "But,  oddly  enough,  before  I 
met  you  ladies  this  morning,  I  had  decided  to  live 
in  this  house." 

"That  is  a  compliment !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Poyn- 
ter.  "After  you  met  us,  I  suppose,  you  preferred  to 
live  in  a  leaky  old  tent." 

"After  I  met  you,  I  would  not  intrude  myself, 
unbidden,  upon  people  who  had  charmed  me." 

"Neat,  General,  neat.  Well,  do  come  and  sleep 
in  a  dry  room.    Mayn't  he,  Virginia  ?" 

"You  do  not  understand,  Mrs.  Poynter,"  said  he, 
quickly.  "I  intended  to  make  my  headquarters 
here,  and  bring  with  me  my  staff." 

"Your  whole  staff!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Poynter. 
"Delightful !" 

Virginia  seconded  Mrs.  Poynter's  invitation. 
She  really  wanted  neither  the  Union  General  nor 
his  staff,  and  she  knew  very  well  that  her  father 
didn't  want  them  there  at  Waverley.  She  was  un- 
der great  obligations  to  Von  Benzinger,  however, 
and  his  delicacy  in  so  quickly  giving  her  a  chance 
to  withdraw,  gracefully,  Mrs.  Poynter's  invitation 


THE  MASK.  103 

appealed  to  her.  Of  course  he  had  the  power  sim- 
ply to  come  without  her  permission.  It  was  much 
better,  if  he  was  to  be  there,  to  be  on  decent  terms 
with  him. 

So  the  General  sent  his  orderly  back  to  Captain 
Geary,  his  adjutant,  instructing  him  to  move  the 
brigade  headquarters  to  Waverley  after  supper. 
The  General  dined  with  Mrs.  Poynter,  Miss  Eg- 
gleston,  and  the  Squire.  More  and  more,  Von  Ben- 
zinger  was  fascinated  by  this  girl,  whose  person- 
ality, possessing  the  healthful  freshness  of  the 
woods  and  fields,  was  yet  instinct  with  the  gracious 
manners  and  high  spirit  of  a  courtly  old  tradition. 
The  man  had  no  intimates  in  this  country — he  was 
here  with  a  purpose,  and  since  his  arrival,  a  year 
before,  he  had  spoken  scarce  ten  words  without  a 
purpose.  But  now  the  ladies  drew  him  out  and  he 
talked  for  talk's  sake — incidents  of  battle  and  siege 
and  storm  at  sea,  shifting  the  scene  from  sweltering 
iron  mills  to  the  blithe  dens  of  Parisian  students; 
and,  finally,  he  told  them  of  La  Gloire — the  French 
ironclad  which  the  Merrimac,  he  said,  could  easily 
crush.  Few  men  could  draw  upon  the  experience 
of  so  many  kinds  of  Hfe ;  few  men  could  be  so  in- 
teresting. Yet,  as  Virginia  watched  the  free  play  of 
his  expressive  face  and  hands  and  shoulders,  which, 
until  now,  she  had  seen  severely  controlled,  as  she 


104  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

saw  his  black  eyes  light  up  beneath  his  white,  lus- 
trous hair,  and  heard  his  sardonic  humor  as  of  a 
man  who  had  fought  the  world  bitterly,  she  felt  as 
though  the  rigid  soldier  of  the  morning  had 
dropped  a  mask.  Was  this  really  his  face  which  he 
showed  them  now — was  this  the  real  man?  Or, 
was  it  another  mask  ? 


THE  PILOTS.  105 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  PILOTS. 

The  sun  had  set  an  hour  ago  on  the  waters  and 
shores  of  Hampton  Roads,  but  they  were  not  dark. 
The  frigate  Congress  still  burned  fiercely  in  the 
bay.  Her  spars  and  cordage  gleamed,  clear-cut,  in 
firelight;  her  square  port  holes  glowed  dark-red 
in  her  black  hull ;  waves  of  flame  surged  up  out  of 
her  hatches,  and  burnt  through  her  decks,  sweeping 
dense  showers  of  sparks  up  toward  the  sky.  The 
red  light  of  that  burning  tinged  the  slightly  rock- 
ing waters  of  the  Roads,  gleamed  on  the  projecting 
masts  and  flying  flags  of  the  Cumberland,  lighted 
the  white  tents  of  Camp  Butler,  made  lurid  the 
smoke-hung  sky,  and  cast  a  dull  glare  on  the  win- 
dow-panes of  Waverley.  In  that  strange  light,  the 
sea  and  shore  and  sky  were  weird  as  in  a  dream. 
Through  the  Federal  camps,  soldiers  sat,  moodily 
silent ;  to  them  the  reddened  world  was  colored  with 
disaster.     From  Waverley  they  saw,  far  over  to- 


106  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ward  Norfolk,  the  silent,  momentary  rise  and  arch 
of  rockets  against  the  distant  sky.  Had  they  been 
within  hearing  of  those  rockets'  hiss,  they  would 
have  found  a  people  drunk  with  joy — celebrating 
the  overwhelming  victory  of  the  Merrimac.  From 
Michigan  to  Florida  it  was  the  same  story — every 
mind  in  the  country  was  turned  with  terror  or  de- 
light to  that  red  spot  on  the  Atlantic  coast  where 
the  Merrimac  had  half  drawn  out  the  cork  of  the 
Confederate  bottle. 

In  Hampton  Roads  was  the  focus  of  all  the 
mighty  waves  of  emotion  sweeping  that  night  over 
the  country ;  the  news  was  flashed  from  town  to 
town  and  passed  from  lip  to  lip,  till  every  thought 
of  North  and  South  was  turned  intensely  upon  this 
one  place,  and  it  became  the  center  of  a  spiritual 
storm — the  core  of  a  cyclone  of  hope  and  fear. 

The  fire  had  raged  in  the  frigate  since  three  that 
afternoon.  All  through  the  evening,  on  into  the 
night,  steadily  the  flames  approached  the  maga- 
zines. At  Waverley,  the  while  the  great  ship 
burned,  love  and  hate,  suspicion,  treason,  guilt,  and 
fear  were  likewise  working  toward  a  great  disaster. 

Soon  after  dark,  Waterloo  Willis  came  up  the 
road  from  the  new  camp,  and,  turning  in  at  an  an- 
gle of  the  stone  wall,  approached  the  gate  leading 
into  the  grounds  of  Waverley.     As  he  did  so,  a 


THE  PILOTS.  107 

sentinel,  pacing  his  post  along  the  slope,  halted, 
brought  his  musket  to  charge,  and  cried,  "Who 
goes  there?" 

"Your  affectionate  friend,"  replied  the  Yankee, 

stopping  to  light  a  fresh  cigar. 

"Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign." 

Approaching  to  within  a  few  feet  of  the  guard, 
Willis  stretched  forward  one  of  his  long  arms, 
flipped  the  ashes  from  his  cigar  along  the  shining 
steel  of  the  bayonet,  and  said,  in  his  cool,  drawling 
fashion,  "Virginia." 

"Fair,"  replie4  the  guard. 

"Rebel,"  responded  the  correspondent. 

"The  countersign  is  right.  Pass  on,"  and  the 
sentinel,  throwing  his  gun  carelessly  across  his 
shoulder,  continued  on  his  rounds. 

"Virginia,  fair  rebel,"  repeated  Willis,  advancing 
up  the  carriage  road  and  turning  into  the  path  that 
led  to  the  house.  "Von  Benzinger's  countersign  is 
significant.  I  wonder  if  Miss  Eggleston  is  pleased 
with  the  compliment." 

"Hello,  Waterloo.  Glad  to  see  you.  Rather  busy 
day  all  'round,  eh?" 

The  speaker.  Captain  Geary,  was  a  short,  com- 
pactly built  man,  of  perhaps  fifty,  with  close-cropped 
gray  hair  and  beard,  and  a  florid  complexion. 


108  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Right  you  are,  Captain.  The  Merrimac  has 
worked  destruction  in  the  Roads  today." 

"Yes,  devil  take  her.  You  can  see  the  Cumber- 
land's flag  from  here.  Have  a  look  ?"  he  continued, 
offering  Willis  the  glass  through  which  he  had  been 
scanning  the  harbor. 

"Obliged  to  you.  Captain,  but  I  haven't  the 
heart.  That  flag  marks  the  grave  of  as  brave  a 
company  of  men  as  ever  died  for  a  just  cause." 

"Not  a  man  surrendered,"  exclaimed  the  adju- 
tant, with  military  pride.  "They  fought  their  guns 
to  the  water's  edge  and  went  down  with  their  colors 
flying." 

"I  sympathize  with  yo',  gentlemen,"  said  Hen- 
derson, coming  forward  from  a  shadow  of  the  wall, 
polishing  his  bald  head  with  his  big  bandanna.  "Yo' 
Yankees  did,  indeed,  fight  like  heroes ;  but  the  prej- 
udice of  a  co'respondent  has  led  you  into  an  error, 
Mr.  Willis.  Ours  is  the  just  cause,  sah,  according 
to  the  constitution,  conceived  and  established  by 
that  noble  Virginian  and  sublime  patriot,  George 
Washington,  sah." 

"Eloquent,  Squire,"  replied  Willis,  with  a  cold 
smile,  "but,  by  Jimtown,  did  it  ever  occur  to  you 
that  things  have  changed  somewhat  in  the  last  cen- 
tury, constitutions  included?" 

"They  have  never  changed  where  the  rights  of 


THE  PILOTS.  109 

prope'ty  are  consa'ned,  sah,  not  since  Adam  took 
possession  of  the  brute  creation,  sah,  an'  named  'em, 
an'  set  'em  to  wu'k  fo'  him,  sah.  Wondah  wha'  that 
black  rascal,  Joe,  is,"  he  said,  suddenly  dropping  his 
rhetorical  style  and  looking  anxiously  about.  "I 
can't  heah  of  him  anywha'.  Nevah  knew  him  to 
leave  me  befo'.  Ef  yo'  Yankee  soldiers  have  stolen 
that  niggah,  Cap'n,  I'll — " 

"Don't  be  alarmed,  Henderson,"  said  Geary, 
winking  broadly  at  Willis ;  "your  property  will  turn 
up  all  right.  There  isn't  a  Yankee  recruit  mean 
enough  to  take  the  last  prop  from  the  house  of  a 
Southern  gentleman  who  knows  how  to  mix  a 
morning  drink  and  reveres  the  constitution,  eh,  Wil- 
lis?" 

"By  Jimtown,  Geary,  I  wouldn't  have  the 
Squire  and  Joe  separated  for  a  New  England  home- 
stead," said  Willis,  puffing  furiously  at  his  weed. 
"When  'd  you  miss  him.  Squire?" 

"  'Bout  half  an  hour  ago,  sah.  I  went  in  thar  to 
protest  to  the  General  about  takin'  this  house  fo' 
his  headquarters,  an'  in  the  excitement  of  my  hur- 
ried departure  I  fo'got  all  about  the  niggah,  sah. 
An'  I  hain't  been  able  to  locate  him  since.  Heah, 
yo',  Joe !"  he  cried,  turning  suddenly  and  shouting 
into  the  garden. 

"Might  call  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  Captain, 


110  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

and  order  a  search,"  said  Willis,  half  in  earnest.  "If 
that  boy  isn't  returned  to  the  Squire,  I  shall  be  up  a 
stump  for  amusement." 

"If  I  find  a  damned  Yankee  soldier  tryin'  to  run 
that  boy  off,  I'll  shoot  him  on  sight,"  proclaimed 
the  Squire,  going  up  the  steps. 

"And  you'd  be  justified  by  the  constitution, 
Squire.  I'm  with  you  on  that  proposition,"  Willis 
called  after  him. 

In  the  doorway  the  Squire  halted,  took  out  his 
handkerchief,  removed  his  hat,  and  rubbed  the 
smooth  surface  of  his  head,  slowly.  Having  thus 
refreshed  his  memory,  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the 
center  of  the  gallery. 

"The  print  I  brought  this  morning  frorh  Little 
Bethel,  an'  which  I  allowed  yo'  to  read,  Mr.  Willis," 
he  said,  with  an  awkward  attempt  not  to  soar,  "can- 
not be  found,  sah.  A  Richmond  papah  is  a  luxury 
in  these  times,  sah.  Ef  either  of  yo'  gentlemen  can 
give  me  any  information  concerning  it,  I  should 
deem  it  a  favor." 

"I  was  interested  in  it  myself,  Squire.  Did  you 
ask  Estelle  ?  She  was  with  us  at  the  time,  I  remem- 
ber."   Willis  was  feeling  his  way  cautiously. 

"Yes,  sah.  She  tol'  me  she  laid  it  away  somewha' 
but  the  exact  place  has  slipped  her  recollection,  sah. 


THE  PILOTS.  Ill 

I  wondah  wha'  that  niggah  Joe  is?"  he  said,  the 
lesser  loss  suggesting  the  greater. 

"Hang  Joe,"  growled  Geary,  with  a  shrug. 

"Captain  Geary!"  cried  the  Squire,  red  anger 
flushing  his  face. 

"Only  a  suggestion.  Squire.  You  don't  need  to 
follow  it,  at  least  not  until  you  find  the  boy.  Why 
don't  you  tell  your  troubles  to  Mrs.  Poynter.  She 
might  be  able  to  help  you." 

"Your  latter  suggestion  redeems  the  fo'mah,"  said 
the  Squire,  resuming  his  natural  pompous  manner. 
"Mrs.  Poynter  is  a  superior  woman,  sah.  I  will  en- 
deavor to  find  her." 

"Be  careful  not  to  get  into  the  General's  room," 
cried  Willis.    But  the  Squire  was  out  of  hearing. 

"He's  safe  enough  if  he  does,"  said  Geary.  "The 
General  isn't  there." 

"Where  is  he?"  Willis  inquired,  with  more  inter- 
est than  he  usually  displayed. 

"He  went  out  a  while  ago  to  inspect  the  picket 
lines.  That's  military  training,  WilHs.  All  the  de- 
tails in  hand  and  nothing  trusted  to  subordinates." 

"If  training  will  make  a  general,  Von  Benzinger's 
chances  are  away  up,  I  reckon,"  replied  Willis  with 
a  queer  ring  in  his  drawl.  "By  the  way,  Geary,  have 
you  heard  any  more  about  the  grounding  of  the 
ships?    There  seems  to  be  a  big  suspicion  that  all 


112  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  pilots  were  bought  up  in  anticipation  of  the  at- 
tack, and  that  the  ships  were  run  on  the  shoals  to 
give  the  Merrimac  a  cock-sure  chance  to  destroy 
'em." 

"It  looks  that  way.  When  Von  Benzinger  came 
back  from  watching  the  fight,  he  told  me  that  a 
Union  naval  lieutenant,  named  Hamilton,  had  rec- 
ommended the  pilots  in  the  first  place,  that  he  was 
a  Southerner  born  and  bred,  and  that  he  was  under 
suspicion.    Do  you  know  the  fellow?" 

"Hamilton!  Hamilton!"  repeated  Willis,  slowly. 
"Never  heard  of  him."  He  was  startled  to  hear  his 
own  words  of  sympathy  for  Hamilton  spoken  that 
afternoon,  being  used  to  fasten  suspicion  on  his 
friend.    There  was  something  uncanny  about  it. 

"And  so  Von  Benzinger  thinks  Hamilton's  the 
man,"  he  said,  half  aloud.     "That's  queer." 

"What's  queer.     That  Von  Benzinger — " 

"That  the  men  bobbing  around  in  that  boat  out 
there  don't  get  raised  out  of  the  water  with  a  shell 
from  some  quarter — Federal  or  Confederate,"  he 
drawled,  not  wishing  Geary  to  suspect  the  trend 
of  his  thought.  "Ha,  they're  turning  straight  for 
the  mouth  of  the  Elizabeth.  Your  glass  again, 
Geary !" 

"All  right ;  keep  it  till  I  return  from  a  tramp 
through  camp.    General's  orders.    Anything  start- 


THE  PILOTS.  113 

ling  in  the  boat?"  he  continued,  as  Willis  lowered 
the  glasses. 

"Oystermen,"  said  Willis,  sententiously. 

"Nothing  worth  a  headline  in  that,"  laughed  the 
Captain.  "Gad,  you  newspaper  men  would  find 
something  suspicious  in  the  changing  features  of 
the  moon." 

"Which  is  about  to  take  a  look  at  the  world  on 
its  own  account,"  said  Willis,  jerking  the  glasses  at 
a  silvery  rim  just  beginning  to  show  along  the  east- 
ern horizon. 

"And  I  suppose  you'll  hang  around  here  to  enjoy 
its  mellow  light  in  company  with  the  gay  Washing- 
ton widow.  She  seems  to  be  leading  you  and  the 
Squire  a  very  pretty  chase."  And  the  bluff,  grizzled 
Captain  chuckled  immoderately. 

"I  cannot  agree  with  you,  Mrs.  Poynter."  It  was 
the  Squire's  voice  raised  in  the  usual  protest. 

"Here  they  come.  Brace  yourself  for  the  chase, 
old  fellow.  The  Squire  has  the  constitution  on  his 
side,  but  you  have  the  power  of  the  press  behind 
you,  which  makes  it  an  even  fight.  I'm  off.  My 
regards  to  the  widow."  And  the  Captain,  adjust- 
ing his  sword  belt,  threw  back  his  shoulders  and 
swung  down  the  path  toward  the  line  of  white  tents 
showing  dimly  in  the  distance. 

"Oh,  there  you  are,  Waterloo,"  said  Mrs.  Poynter, 


114  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

running  lightly  down  the  steps.  "You  truant, 
where  have  you  been  all  afternoon.  I've  been  dy- 
ing for  some  one  who  had  a  thought  above  the  Con- 
federacy to  sympathize  with  me  over  the  fate  of 
those  beautiful  ships!  That  iron  monster!  Isn't 
it  a  shame?" 

"Sank  the  Cumberland,  bu'ned  the  Congress,  an' 
began  on  the  Minnesota,"  declaimed  the  Squire, 
converting  the  gallery  into  a  rostrum.  "The  iron 
monster  to  which  you  refer,  Mrs.  Poynter,  has  saved 
the  menaced  property  of  this  peninsula."  Then 
suddenly  feeling  about  for  Joe  and  not  finding  him, 
the  Squire  broke  down,  and,  more  from  habit  than 
with  any  hope  of  answer,  he  added,  "Wha's  Joe?" 

"Squire  Henderson,  if  I  were  a  man — "  began  the 
widow,  indignantly. 

"Were  you  a  man,  Mrs.  Poynter,"  interrupted 
Willis,  "you  would  be  in  danger  of  the  draft." 

"And  we  should  be  in  danger  of  losing  a  most 
charming  companion,"  added  the  Squire,  with  a 
deep  bow,  his  gallantry  getting  the  better  of  his 
anxiety  about  his  lost  property. 

"Squire,  you  are  a  flatterer,"  said  the  widow,  tap- 
ping him  lightly  with  her  fan. 

"A  flatterer,  Mrs.  Poynter  ?"  drawled  Willis,  with 
a  surprised  inflection. 


THE  PILOTS.  lis 

"Yes,  and  I'm  angry  at  being  praised  on  account 
of  my  sex." 

"Is  that  because  you  are  of  that  sex?"  said  Wil- 
lis, with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  blue  eyes.  "I  had 
supposed  that  in  the  eye  of  Vanity  there  was  noth- 
ing worth  while  that  did  not  reflect  herself." 

"By  that  you  mean  all  women  are  vain." 

"And  all  men  industrious.  Yes,  something  like 
that." 

"Well,  if  industry  is  the  chief  of  virtues,  then  the 
devil  must  be  the  chief  of  saints,"  cried  Mrs.  Poyn- 
ter. 

"The  lady  is  eminently  right,  sah,"  interjected 
the  Squire,  crowding  between  Willis  and  the  widow. 
"The  northe'n  idea  that  a  man  is  mo'  honorable  be- 
cause he  makes  his  own  co'n  is  a  fallacy,  sah.  A 
puritan  fallacy." 

"By  the  same  token,  a  man  in  the  South  should 
be  more  highly  respected  for  making  his  own  whis- 
key.    Is  that  your  argument.  Squire?" 

"The  thoughtless  are  pleased  with  the  tinkling  of 
their  own  tongues,  but  the  thoughtful  are  silent 
lest  they  utter  indiscretions,"  laughed  the  widow. 
"But  here  comes  the  General's  aide.  Perhaps  he 
brings  news." 

"Hallo,  Edwards,"  called  Waterloo,  as  the  aide 
came  up.    "Know  anything  worth  while?" 

8 


116  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Know  't  the  road  from  here  to  the  fort's  ankle 
deep  in  dust  an'  mighty  slow  ridin'." 

"What's  the  latest  gossip  about  headquarters?" 

"Everybody  talkin'  'bout  the  treachery  o'  the 
pilots  who  ran  the  ships  aground." 

"Think  it  was  planned  ?" 

"Bet  your  life  it  was.    Bribery  an'  nothing  else." 

"Any  arrests?" 

"Not  yet.  Department  keepin'  everything  dark, 
I  guess." 

"Any  clew  to  who  did  the  bribing?" 

"Not  that  I  heard.  Must  have  been  someone  on 
our  side  though.  If  he's  caught  I  pity  him," 
growled  the  weary  aide,  climbing  the  steps  and  en- 
tering the  door  that  led  to  Von  Benzinger's  quar- 
ters. 

"What's  this  about  the  pilots  and  treachery, 
Waterloo  ?  I  declare  you  are  close  mouthed  as  the 
sphinx.  I  suppose  every  general  in  the  Union  army 
might  turn  traitor  and  I  should  have  to  wait  for 
some  common  soldier  to  come  along  and  give  me 
the  news.  Squire,  I  take  back  all  I  said  this  morn- 
ing about  Washington  courtesy."  Mrs.  Poynter's 
tone  was  quite  severe.  "Willis  is  the  most  selfish 
man  of  my  acquaintance.  Let's  go  look  for  Joe !" 
and  taking  the  Squire's  arm  she  sailed  away,  her 


THE  PILOTS.  117 

light,  fluffy  hair  shining  in  the  moonlight  like  finely 
spun  gold. 

The  correspondent  watched  them  as  they  passed 
down  the  winding  path  toward  the  wood,  the 
widow's  tall,  well-proportioned  figure  and  easy, 
graceful  movements  contrasting  strongly  with  the 
short,  corpulent  figure  of  the  Squire,  who  rose  on 
his  toes  after  each  step  in  an  evident  endeavor  to 
reach  that  altitude  in  the  world  to  which  his  ego- 
tism had  exalted  him. 

"She's  handsome,"  was  the  correspondent's  men- 
tal comment.  "I  wonder  if  she's  as  heartless  as  she 
pretends.  Hello,"  he  ejaculated  aloud,  "I  thought 
you'd  gone." 

Lafe  Harlan  had  come  suddenly  around  an  angle 
of  the  house.  Upon  seeing  Willis,  he  stopped,  took 
off  his  wide-brimmed,  black  beaver  hat,  and  threw 
back  his  hair  with  a  jerk  of  his  head. 

"It  isn't  my  fault  that  I'm  here,"  he  said.  "I'd 
have  been  on  the  other  side  o'  the  James  this  morn- 
ing if  some  o'  your  damned  Yankee  soldiers  hadn't 
caught  sight  o'  me  and  come  near  capturing  me." 

"How  do  you  come  to  be  walking  about  here  in- 
side the  Union  lines,  and  under  the  nose  of  a  Union 
general  ?" 

"Because  I  have  permission  from  the  General 
himself." 


118  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"General  von  Benzinger?" 

"You  heard  what  I  said." 

"But  does  he  know  who  you  are?" 

"Ask  him,  if  you're  anxious  to  know." 

"By  Jimtown,  if  I  understand  it."  And  WilHs 
planted  his  feet  wide  apart,  shoved  his  hands  up  to 
the  wrists  in  his  pockets,  and  stood  looking  at  Har- 
lan. "How'd  you  work  it?"  he  said,  after  a  pause. 
The  guerrilla's  audacity  pleased  him. 

"Resultofcircumstances.  Yanks  chase  me  in  here, 
surround  the  house,  overpower  me,  and  are  about  to 
drag  me  away  when  the  General  rides  up,  and  in  re- 
sponse to  a  request  from  my  pretty  cousin,  orders 
the  Yanks  to  release  me.  Being  protected,  I've 
stayed.    That's  clear,  ain't  it?" 

"Well,  what  about  the  paper.  Suppose  I  show 
it  to  Miss  Eggleston?" 

"You  won't,  because  you  haven't  got  it  to  show." 

The  two  men  eyed  each  other,  measuring  their 
advantages  and  disadvantages  as  men  try  their 
rapiers  before  a  duel. 

"See  here,"  Harlan  said,  suddenly.  "There's  no 
reason  why  we  should  quarrel.  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  leave  here  at  the  first  opportunity.  What- 
ever your  plans  are,  you  don't  want  to  turn  me  over 
to  the  Yanks  or  you'd  a  done  it  before  this.  Now, 
you  promise  to  keep  mum  about  that  paper,  an'  I'll 


THE  PILOTS.  119 

give  Hamilton  a  free  field  with  Virginia.  Is  it  a 
bargain  ?" 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Willis,  after  a  pause.  "I'll  trust 
you  that  far.  But  don't  make  it  necessary  for  me  to 
call  on  General  Wool." 

Harlan  took  off  his  hat,  shook  the  hair  out  of  his 
eyes,  gave  Willis  a  sharp  glance,  and  turning  about 
walked  toward  the  stone  archway  leading  to  the 
stable.  As  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  wall  he 
looked  back  over  his  shoulder  and  called,  "When 
you  find  that  paper  let  me  know." 

"I  wonder  if  the  girl  gave  him  the  paper,  or  is 
keeping  it  herself  for  some  reason  of  her  own," 
thought  Willis.  I  don't  believe  Harlan's  sure  about 
it,  or  he  wouldn't  be  so  friendly.  If  it  wasn't  for 
Hamilton's  squeamishness  about  having  an  old 
playmate  hanged  as  a  spy,  I'd  make  short  work 
of  him.  I  wonder  if  Von  Benzinger  suspects  what 
a  rich  prize  his  gallantry  is  letting  slip  through  his 
fingers?  This  foreign  General  is  a  puzzle  to  me. 
What  motive  induced  him  to  twist  my  reference  to 
Hamilton  and  the  pilots  into  a  suspicion  ?  By  Jim- 
town,  I'm  getting  as  loquacious  as  an  old  maid  at  a 
tea  party.  If  anything  should  happen  to  that  fine 
young  lieutenant  through  my  silly  speech,  I  should 
feel  like  blowing  my  brains  out." 

Friendship  had  sprung  up  between    Willis    and 


120  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Hamilton  almost  at  their  first  meeting.  They  were 
as  different  in  manner,  speech  and  action  as  it  was 
possible  for  two  men  to  be,  but  both  were  honest 
and  brave  to  rashness,  and  they  trusted  each  other 
implicitly. 

"I  must  see  Miss  Eggleston  and  tell  her  of  this 
new  danger  to  Hamilton,"  was  Willis'  final  decision. 
Just  as  he  was  about  to  carry  his  thought  into  execu- 
tion, Geary  returned  from  the  camps,  and  together 
they  entered  the  house.  In  the  hall  they  met  Vir- 
ginia. A  light  wrap  was  thrown  about  her  shoul- 
ders and  she  carried  her  hat  on  her  arm. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Willis,"  she  said,  giving 
him  her  hand.  "I  was  just  going  to  look  for  Mrs. 
Poynter.  The  house  seems  so  still  and  lonely  after 
the  roar  of  the  guns.  I  have  often  felt  I  should  like 
to  go  to  war  for  my  country,  but  today's  expe- 
riences have  satisfied  me.  I  hope  never  to  repeat 
them." 

"And  I  hope  you  never  may.  Captain,  if  you'll 
excuse  me,  I  will  remain  for  a  word  with  Miss  Eg- 
gleston. With  your  permission,  of  course,"  he  con- 
tinued, bowing  to  Virginia. 

"Certainly,"  said  Virginia,  smiling  graciously. 

"You'll  find  me  in  the  first  room  to  the  left,  off 
the  hall,"  said  the  Captain.  "Drop  in  before  you 
go." 


THE  PILOTS.  121 

"I  thought  perhaps  you  might  wish  to  hear  of 
Hamilton,"  said  Waterloo,  when  they  were  alone, 
rightly  guessing  where  her  thoughts  lay. 

"I  have  been  told  that  he  was  not  hurt  in  the 
battle." 

"Not  in  the  battle,  no,  Miss  Eggleston." 

"What  do  you  mean,"  she  said,  growing  pale  at 
the  thought  his  words  suggested. 

"I  mean.  Miss  Eggleston,  that  Earl  Hamilton  is 
in  great  danger;  a  danger  that  threatens  not  only 
his  life,  but  what  is  dearer  to  him  than  life — his 
honor." 

"Tell  me  what  you  mean." 

"You  know  the  Union  ships  were  run  aground?" 

"Yes." 

"And  the  pilots  are  believed  to  have  been 
bribed  ?" 

"I  have  heard  something  of  it." 

"Hamilton  hired  these  men  some  weeks  ago." 

"Because  he  knew  them." 

"That's  it  exactly,  and  because  he  did  hire  them, 
because  he  knew  them,  and  because  he  is  a  Vir- 
ginian, they  say — " 

"Not  that  he  has  played  false  to  the  Union." 

"Yes." 

"It  isn't  true!" 

Before  her  rose  the  picture  of  that  morning  in  the 


122  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

garden,  when  not  for  her  love  would  he  think  a  dis- 
loyal thought. 

"It  isn't  true !"  she  said  again,  her  eyes  shining 
like  stars.    "Who  dares  charge  him  with  treachery  ?" 

"No  one  directly,  but  I  learned  since  I  came  here 
that  Von  Benzinger  had  spoken  of  it." 

"General  von  Benzinger !  What  does  he  know 
of  Earl  Hamilton  ?" 

"He  does  not  know  him,  and,  what  is  more  im- 
portant, he  doesn't  know  that  you  know  him." 

"Why  should  that  concern  him  ?" 

"It  doesn't.  Listen.  I  have  as  much  faith  in 
Hamilton's  integrity  as  you  have.  But  it  is  import- 
ant we  should  be  aware  of  who  is  behind  this  charge. 
I  don't  know  that  Von  Benzinger  knows  any  more 
about  it  than  we  do.  I  don't  know  that  he  does  not 
know  all  about  it.  It  is  important  that  we  should 
find  out  without  raising  his  suspicions.  You  can  do 
this,  and  you  alone." 

"I  ?    In  what  way  ?" 

"Draw  him  into  conversation.  Be  careful  not  to 
mention  Hamilton's  name  nor  suggest  that  sus- 
picion rests  on  him.  The  General  is  vain — as  we  all 
are — and  may  tell  you  something  that  will  help  us. 
The  country  is  greatly  excited.  Such  a  thing  as  a 
fair  trial  for  a  man  once  accused  of  grounding  the 
ships  would  be  out  of  the  question.     It  must  never 


THE  PILOTS.  123 

be  made  if  Hamilton  is  innocent — as  he  is,"  Willis 
hastened  to  say,  seeing  the  fire  gathering  in  her 
eyes.    "Will  you  help  me?" 

Virginia  stood  for  a  moment  looking  through  the 
door  at  the  burning  ships.  A  sudden  kindling  in 
the  sails  threw  a  light,  like  a  halo,  over  her  dark 
hair.  "You  may  depend  on  me,"  she  said,  looking 
Willis  squarely  in  the  eyes. 

"You're  worthy  of  him.  Thank  you,"  said  Wil- 
lis, simply.  Then  he  strode  away  to  the  room  in- 
dicated by  Geary. 


124  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE. 

While  the  events  which  meant  so  much  to  the 
nation  were  crowding  one  another  in  quick  succes- 
sion in  all  that  part  of  Virginia,  Estelle  had  hidden 
herself  in  her  room,  clinging  to  the  paper  brought 
by  the  Squire.  The  paragraph  in  which  five  thou- 
sand dollars  reward  was  ofifered  for  Lafe  Harlan 
fascinated  her.  It  had  for  her  a  power  greater  than 
anything  of  which  she  had  ever  dreamed.  At  the 
first  mention  of  it,  Harlan  had  run  away  from  an 
unarmed  man.  This  small  piece  of  printed  white 
paper  was  more  feared  by  him  than  sword  or  pistol. 
Without  knowing  it,  she  recognized  the  force  of 
type  and  bowed  down  to  it  and  worshiped  it. 

When  Estelle  fled  from  Willis  to  hide  the  paper, 
it  was  to  her  no  more  than  a  suggestion.  In  some 
remote  way  she  felt  that  it  gave  her  power  over 
Harlan.  It  was  a  new  fetish  which  appealed  to  the 
hereditary  superstitions  in  her  blood.    If  the  mere 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  125 

mention  of  it  by  an  unarmed  adversary  could  cause 
obedience  in  the  man  whom  she  had  believed  to  be 
brave  beyond  fear,  why  should  the  possession  of  it 
not  in  some  way  bring  Harlan  to  think  of  her — to 
accept  help  from  her.  He  was  in  danger;  his  life 
was  sought  on  every  hand.  If  she  could  plan  his  es- 
cape and  they  were  to  go  away  together,  would  he 
not  be  grateful?  Somewhere  beyond  this  roar  of 
guns  and  smoke  of  battle  there  must  be  a  place  of 
peace  where  they  might  live  without  fear — where 
no  one  could  question  her  right  to  love  and  happi- 
ness. 

Having  reasoned  so  far  as  this,  she  began  to  ask 
herself  why  it  would  not  be  an  act  of  kindness  to 
force  Harlan  to  go  away  from  Waverley.  Here  he 
would  always  be  subject  to  his  infatuation  for  Vir- 
ginia, and  while  Estelle  felt  sure  Virginia  would 
never  redeem  her  father's  pledge  by  marrying  Har- 
lan, she  knew  that  were  he  to  remain  here  he 
would  be  lost  to  her  forever.  Over  and  over  again 
since  his  return  she  had  laid  plans  to  help  him  to 
escape  and  to  follow  him  wherever  he  might  go, 
making  herself  so  necessary  to  him,  doing  his  will 
so  blindly,  that  he  would  at  last  feel  grateful  and 
reward  her  with  his  love.  But  after  the  pursuit  of 
the  morning  and  his  release  by  General  von  Ben- 
zinger  at  Virginia's  request,  she  lost  all  hope.    Then 


126  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

her  thoughts  reverted  to  the  paper.  Willis  had  said 
if  it  fell  into  Virginia's  hand  she  would  despise  Har- 
lan and  drive  him  from  her  roof.  Why  should  it 
not  be  so.  He  was  endangering  his  life  in  a  vain 
suit  for  a  hand  that  would  never  be  his.  Once  be- 
yond the  sound  of  Virginia's  voice,  he  would  forget 
her. 

All  day  these  thoughts  had  chased  each  other 
through  her  brain.  When  night  came  and  the 
sound  of  firing  ceased,  she  crept  up  the  stairs  to  her 
room,  and  taking  the  crumpled  paper  in  her  hands, 
sat  down  in  the  gloom,  and  rocking  herself  to  and 
fro,  sang  softly  to  herself: 

"Wi'  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose, 
Fu'  sweet  upon  its  thorny  tree; 

And  my  fause  lover  stole  the  rose, 
But  ah!    he  left  the  thorn  for  me." 

At  last  she  left  the  room,  and  groping  her  way 
to  the  stairs,  went  below,  holding  the  paper  tightly 
clasped  in  her  hand,  hoping,  yet  almost  dreading,  to 
meet  Virginia.  Her  world  was  so  small,  this  ac- 
tion meant  so  much  to  her!  Suppose  Lafe  should 
hate  her  for  what  she  was  going  to  do.  He  must 
not  know.  Willis  had  threatened  to  tell  Virginia. 
If  she  sent  him  away,  Lafe  would  suspect  the  cor- 
respondent and  not  know  that  Estelle  had  disclosed 
the  secret. 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  127 

Now  that  the  battle  was  over,  the  night  seemed 
strangely  still.  The  shrill  staccato  of  a  cricket 
sounded  louder  in  her  ears  than  had  the  roar  of 
musketry,  and  the  sudden  call  of  a  sentry  shook 
her  more  than  the  roar  of  a  battery  had  done.  Some- 
one was  moving  along  the  gallery,  and  she  recog- 
nized the  voices  of  Virginia  and  Lafe.  She  slipped 
into  the  dining-room,  crept  near  one  of  the  windows, 
and  listened.  In  the  light  from  the  burning  ship  she 
could  see  everything  about  the  place  as  clearly  as  at 
noonday.  Lafe  and  Virginia  stood  talking  earnest- 
ly. They  were  looking  toward  the  Roads,  but  she 
saw  the  man's  face  cut  in  sharp  profile  against  the 
burning  ship,  and  a  great  yearning  stirred  under  her 
heart  and  thrilled  her  whole  being.  It  was  as  if 
she  had  been  baptized  with  a  new  and  subtle  es- 
sence. Her  head  swam  with  the  mighty  love  that 
took  possession  of  her.  The  world  was  swept  aside, 
and  there  was  nothing  but  that  dark,  wild  face, 
framed  in  its  mass  of  black  hair  flung  carelessly 
away  from  the  high,  narrow  forehead — the  flash  of 
the  deep-set  eyes,  and  in  her  heart  that  strange  new 
love,  which  swept  over  and  possessed  her,  and 
whispered  to  her  soul  a  secret  that  is  told  only  once 
in  the  world  to  a  human  being,  and  that  being — a 
woman. 


128  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Dizzy  with  her  emotions,  Estelle  groped  blindly 
for  support.  Her  hand  fell  on  the  sideboard,  and 
her  fingers  closed  over  the  barrel  of  one  of  the  pis- 
tols Seth  had  prepared  for  Virginia's  use.  She  took 
it  from  the  case,  and  carrying  it  to  the  window,  ex- 
amined it  critically  by  the  light  of  the  burning  ship. 
She  had  often  assisted  Virginia  in  her  target  prac- 
tice, and  she  saw  now  that  the  pistol  was  properly 
loaded  and  ready  for  action.  She  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, glanced  through  the  window  at  the  two  forms 
outlined  against  the  burning  sky,  and  then  conceal- 
ing the  weapon  in  the  folds  of  her  dress,  she  found 
her  way  to  the  hall  and  hurried  up  the  stairs. 

A  few  moments  later,  Virginia  said  good-night  to 
Harlan  and  entered  the  house.  On  her  way  through 
the  hall  she  passed  the  room  now  occupied  by  Von 
Benzinger.  The  door  stood  partly  open,  and  she 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  interior  as  she  went  by.  On 
a  small  table  near  the  window  burned  a  sperm  oil 
lamp.  The  flickering  flame  sent  strange  shadows 
dancing  in  the  recesses.  Lying  on  the  table  were 
several  bundles  of  papers  neatly  tied  with  tape.  The 
General  was  absent,  but  Virginia  seemed  to  see  him 
sitting  in  the  chair  beside  the  table,  on  his  face  the 
same  strange  smile  she  had  noticed  at  supper.  De- 
spite Von  Benzinger's  suave  manners  and  courteous 
speech,  she  distrusted  him,  and  fell  to  wondering 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  159 

what  his  past  hfe  had  been  and  why  he,  an  educated 
foreigner  and  soldier  of  renown,  should  be  content 
to  serve  a  stranger's  country  in  so  contracted  a 
sphere. 

These  thoughts  were  still  occupying  her  mind 
when  she  entered  her  room.  She  was  surprised  to 
find  the  candles  already  lighted  and  Estelle,  with 
a  feverish  color  in  her  cheeks,  standing  near  the 
door  in  an  attitude  of  expectancy. 

"What's  the  matter,  Estelle !"  said  Virginia,  halt- 
ing in  the  doorway,  "are  you  ill?  You  look  so 
much  like  a  ghost,  you  startled  me !" 

"There  ain't  nuthin'  the  mattah  with  me.  Miss 
Virginia,"  replied  the  girl,  in  a  low,  strained  voice, 
and  dropping  into  the  negro  dialect,  as  she  always 
did  when  uncommonly  moved  or  excited.  "But 
tha's  somethin'  yo'  ought  to  know.  An'  yet  I  don' 
like  ter  be  the  one  ter  tell  yo'." 

"Why,  Estelle,  what  do  you  mean?  If  you  know 
anything  that  concerns  the  welfare  of  anyone  on 
this  plantation,  it  is  your  duty  to  tell  me  What  is 
it?    Who  is  in  trouble?" 

"Lafe !"  replied  the  girl,  and  there  was  such  a  wail 
of  agony  in  the  sound  of  the  one  spoken  word  that 
Virginia  started  and  peered  into  the  girl's  face  in 
wonderment. 


130  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"He's  sold  secrets  of  the  Confederacy  to  the  Yan- 
kees.   The  South  has  set  a  price  on  his  head." 

"Estelle,  you  are  dreaming,"  said  Virginia. 
"Lafe  Harlan  a  Union  spy !  Who's  been  putting 
such  nonsense  into  your  head  ?" 

"I  heard  the  Washington  man  tell  him  so  to  his 
face  this  morning,  and  Lafe  didn't  kill  him,  but  went 
away,  as  he  was  ordered,  so  I  know  it's  true." 

"This  is  some  new  Yankee  trick.  Lafe  is  out 
there  on  the  gallery  now.  I'll  go  and  ask  him  to 
explain." 

"O,  don't,  Miss  Virginia,  don't  tell  him  I  told  yo', 
fo'  he  would  kill  me."  The  girl  threw  herself  on 
her  knees.  "Promise  me  yo'  won't  tell  him  I  told 
you.  Fo'  God's  sake,  promise  that  an'  I'll  serve  yo' 
all  my  life."  The  girl  was  sobbing  convulsively. 
Virginia  put  her  arms  about  Estelle  and  raised  her 
to  her  feet. 

"Don't  be  afraid,"  she  said,  soothingly.  "I  prom- 
ise you  Lafe  shall  never  know  you  said  a  word 
about  it.  It  can  be  nothing  more  than  idle  gossip 
anyway." 

"Deed  an'  it  ain't,  Miss  Virginia,"  cried  the  girl, 
gathering  courage  with  the  assurance  that  Lafe  was 
not  to  know  of  her  part  in  the  transaction.  "It's 
all  in  this  papah  the  Squire  brought  from  Little 
Bethel  this  morning.    The  stranger  read  it  an'  told 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  131 

Lafe  about  it.  I  heard  him,  and  saw  the  paper  lyin' 
in  the  hbrary  wha'  the  man  dropped  it,  an'  brought 
it  away.    Here  it  is,  an'  yo'  can  read  fo'  yo'self." 

Estelle  picked  up  the  paper  from  the  table  and 
gave  it  to  Virginia.  It  was  so  folded  that  the  head 
line  proclaiming  the  reward  for  Harlan,  dead  or 
alive,  for  betraying  secrets  of  the  Confederacy,  was 
the  first  thing  Virginia  saw.  She  read  it  through 
hurriedly  at  first  and  then  slowly.  Gradually  the 
lines  about  the  corner  of  her  mouth  deepened,  her 
nostrils  dilated,  her  shoulders  stiffened,  and  a  reso- 
lute light  came  into  her  eyes. 

"Go  to  your  room,  Estelle,"  she  said,  without  tak- 
ing her  eyes  from  the  paragraph.  "I  shan't  need 
you  again  tonight.  Harlan  shall  never  know  how 
this  came  into  my  hands.  You  will  be  in  no  dan- 
ger." 

"And  you  will  let  him  remain  here?"  inquired 
Estelle,  with  a  fear  that,  after  all,  her  exposure  of 
Harlan's  treachery  might  fail  of  its  purpose. 

"Remain  here !"  said  Virginia,  lifting  her  proud 
head.  "A  traitor  to  the  South  remain  under  this 
roof  ?    Not  if  he  were  my  own  brother !" 

Estelle's  heart  gave  a  great  leap  when  she  heard 
this,  and  slipping  out,  she  ran  to  her  room,  caught 
up  a  small  bundle  in  which  she  had  already  wrapped 
everything  of  value  she  possessed,  threw  a  scarf 


132  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

about  her  shoulders,  secreted  under  it  the  bundle 
and  Virginia's  pistol,  which  she  had  previously 
brought  from  the  dining-room,  and  going  quietly 
down  a  rear  stairway,  took  a  position  in  the  shadow 
of  a  tower  near  the  wood  that  lay  between  the  house 
and  the  James  River. 

When  Virginia  bade  Harlan  good-night  and  left 
him  alone,  he  was  in  a  pleasant  frame  of  mind.  The 
early  hours  of  the  morning  had  been  fraught  with 
danger  and  full  of  disagreeable  adventures.  His 
meeting  with  Willis  and  the  disclosures  of  the  Rich- 
mond paper  had  made  it  impossible  to  remain  longer 
at  Waverley.  Should  he  disobey  the  injunctions  of 
Willis  to  go  away,  he  knew  the  correspondent  well 
enough  to  feel  sure  Virginia  would  be  made  ac- 
quainted with  his  treachery,  which  thing  he  dreaded 
above  all  others.  Wild  and  reckless  as  he  was,  he 
loved  with  a  fierce,  tiger  passion  this  proud,  high- 
spirited  girl.  Her  beauty,  her  high  sense  of  honor, 
her  devotion  to  the  South  and  her  quick  sympathies 
aroused  in  him  an  admiration  which  he  did  not  take 
the  trouble  to  analyze.  Perhaps  it  was  because  the 
virtues  she  possessed  were  entirely  lacking  in  him- 
self that  he  held  them  in  such  high  regard.  He 
loved  her  and  longed  to  possess  her,  with  all  the 
fervor  of  a  passionate  nature  that  was  a  stranger  to 
control.    But  in  her  presence,  the  cavalier  airs  which 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  133 

sat  so  easily  on  him  at  all  other  times  deserted  him, 
and  the  boastful  words  familiar  to  his  speech  stuck 
in  his  throat  and  failed  of  utterance.  Had  Lafe  Har- 
lan been  born  in  Italy,  he  would  have  been  a  cap- 
tain of  brigands,  reveling  in  the  dangers  of  a 
lawless  life.  He  was  enough  of  an  Arab  to  love  his 
horse ;  enough  of  an  American  to  handle  a  pistol 
with  skill,  and  shoot  with  accuracy ;  enough  of  a 
robber  to  love  money,  and  enough  of  a  Gascon  to 
throw  it  away  with  a  great  show  of  liberality  when 
it  was  once  in  his  possession.  The  war  had  given 
him  the  opportunity  to  indulge  his  propensities. 
Happening  to  be  in  Washington  when  the  struggle 
began,  he  offered  his  services  to  General  McClellan, 
and  as  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  country  in 
which  operations  were  being  carried  on,  and  had  a 
way  of  winning  the  confidence  of  his  associates,  he 
was  employed  to  run  between  the  lines  and  bring 
reports  of  the  enemy's  contemplated  movements. 
Sometimes  these  reports  were  true,  and  sometimes 
not,  according  to  his  moods.  It  was  while  he  was 
engaged  in  this  work  that  he  met  Willis,  and  it 
was  Willis  who  had  detected  Harlan's  treachery  to 
the  Union.  At  that  time  Willis  had  laid  plans  for 
Harlan's  exposure,  but  at  Hamilton's  request  Wil- 
lis simply  warned  Harlan  to  get  out.  Lafe  fled  to 
the  Confederate  lines,  raised  a  company  of  guer- 


134  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

rillas,  and  scoured  the  country  between  the  oppos- 
ing forces,  laying  tribute  wherever  opportunity  of- 
fered or  occasion  demanded.  Virginia  was  ignorant 
of  Harlan's  earlier  movements.  Hamilton  had  nat- 
urally shrunk  from  saying  anything  that  might 
hint  at  enmity  on  his  part.  And  so  to  her  Lafe  had 
always  been  loyal  to  the  South,  and  his  company 
of  freebooters  were  in  her  eyes  a  party  of  brave 
patriots  pitted  against  a  host  of  unrighteous  in- 
vaders. 

Harlan's  arrest  by  the  patrol  in  the  morning,  and 
his  subsequent  release  by  Von  Benzinger,  placed 
him  at  once  beyond  the  fear  of  danger  for  the  pres- 
ent. The  publication  of  his  treachery  in  the  Rich- 
mond papers  made  it  impossible  to  return  to  the 
Southern  lines,  but  he  was  quick-witted  enough  to 
know  that  General  von  Benzinger  had  a  motive  in 
protecting  him,  and  while  that  motive  remained  he 
felt  himself  secure.  It  was  a  single  newspaper  cor- 
respondent against  a  general  of  brigade,  and  the 
odds  were  now  all  on  his  side. 

"If  I  can  keep  that  Richmond  paper  from  falling 
into  Virginia's  hands  for  a  few  days,  I  can  snap  my 
fingers  at  all  of  them,"  he  thought,  going  slowly  into 
the  yard  and  crossing  toward  a  clump  of  trees  at  the 
edge  of  the  knoll  overlooking  the  James.  "Judge 
Eggleston  is  in  Richmond,  and  he  believes  in  me. 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  135 

It  will  take  more  evidence  than  they  can  possibly 
have  to  convict  me,  if  I  can  get  there  and  give  my- 
self up  without  being  shot  for  the  reward.  The 
Merrimac  has  changed  the  affairs  on  this  peninsula, 
and  nobody  knows  what  will  happen  next." 

He  paced  slowly  back  and  forth  in  the  shadows  of 
the  trees,  swinging  his  arms  slowly,  his  eyes  bent  on 
the  ground. 

"Lafe  Harlan !" 

The  words,  although  spoken  in  a  low  tone,  rang 
clear  as  a  bell  in  the  stillness.  There  was  that  in 
the  sound  of  them  that  sent  a  shiver  through  the 
veins  of  Harlan,  who  threw  up  his  head  and  turned 
abruptly.  "Virginia,"  he  said,  and  then  stood  still, 
he  knew  not  why. 

"Lafe  Harlan,"  continued  Virginia,  standing 
straight  as  an  arrow  in  the  moonlight,  and  speaking 
in  full,  even  tones,  "you  are  my  cousin  and  the 
son  of  my  father's  dearest  friend.  When  I  was  yet 
a  little  girl  I  was  taught  to  look  upon  you  as  my 
future  husband.  As  we  grew  older  and  I  saw  how 
different  we  were  in  tastes  and  dispositions,  I  recog- 
nized the  wickedness  of  such  a  union.  But  for  the 
love  I  bore  my  father,  and  with  a  weakness  which 
I  now  regret  more  than  you  can  ever  realize,  I  re- 
frained from  open  disobedience  to  his  wishes,  hop- 
ing that  you  would  at  last  look  upon  this  union  as  I 


136  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

looked  upon  it,  and  release  my  father  from  his 
pledge.  Nevertheless,  when  you  came  here  a  few 
days  ago,  flushed  with  victories  in  a  cause  I  love 
better  than  life,  you  wore  in  my  eyes  the  mantle  of 
a  hero.  That  mantle  has  fallen,  and  I  know  you  to 
be  neither  hero  nor  man,  but  a  traitor,  who  has  be- 
trayed the  country  in  whose  arms  he  was  cradled, 
whose  uniform  he  wears,  and  whose  cause  he  has 
sworn  to  defend." 

"Virginia—" 

"Do  not  call  me  Virginia.  I  am  nothing  to  you. 
Read  that,"  she  said,  handing  him  the  paper  with 
his  name  in  big,  black  type,  clearly  visible  in  the 
moonlight,  "and  then  tell  me  why  I  should  not  call 
the  slaves  and  have  you  thrown  into  the  road." 

Harlan  took  the  paper  from  her  hand,  and  glanced 
along  the  page.  He  had  no  need  to  read  it,  al- 
though this  he  could  have  done  easily  in  the  bright 
moonlight. 

"It's  a  lie,  Virginia !  A  damned  Yankee  lie !"  he 
said,  hoarsely. 

"It  is  the  truth.  I  know  it.  I  feel  it!"  replied 
Virginia.  "For  the  sake  of  your  father's  memory, 
I  refrain  from  turning  you  over  to  be  shot  as  you 
deserve,  but  if  you  are  not  beyond  the  gates  of 
Waverley  in  ten  minutes,  I  will  do  it.  Go !  I  wish 
never  to  see  you  again." 


Go :  I  wish  never  to  see  you  again 


THE  WHITE  SLAVE.  137 

Virginia  whirled  about,  walked  firmly  across  the 
lawn  and  entered  the  house.  Lafe  retired  into  the 
deeper  shadows  and  stood  hesitating.  Suddenly  he 
felt  a  light  touch  on  his  arm,  and  looking  down, 
he  saw  Estelle. 

"Don't  be  downhearted,  Cap'n  Harlan,"  she 
said,  her  voice  showing  both  sympathy  and  fear.  "I 
can  help  you.  Let's  go  away  together.  Trust  me, 
won't  you,  Lafe !"  pleaded  the  girl. 

For  a  moment  he  stood  looking  down  at  the  girl, 
his  face  growing  dark  with  a  sudden  suspicion. 
Then  catching  her  roughly  by  the  shoulder,  he  drew 
her  out  into  a  little  patch  of  moonlight,  and  bend- 
ing over  her,  muttered  savagely : 

"It  was  you,  you  jealous  little  nigger.  The 
Squire  told  me  you  had  the  paper.  It  was  you  who 
betrayed  me.  I  might  have  known  better  and  killed 
yo'  long  ago.  What's  that?"  In  her  consterna- 
tion, Estelle  had  let  fall  the  little  bundle  of  trinkets 
and  the  pistol.  Harlan  snatched  up  the  weapon, 
looked  to  see  if  it  was  loaded,  and  then  shaking  it 
before  the  eyes  of  the  trembling  girl,  said,  "I  ougl.t 
to  put  this  bullet  through  your  brain,  but  I  must 
save  it  for  bigger  game.  Go  back  to  the  house  and 
keep  what  you  have  seen  here  to  yourself.  You  go 
with  me  ?"    He  laughed  aloud,  and  tossing  his  black 


138  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

hair  from  his  eyes,  sprang  down  a  low  embankment 
and  disappeared  in  the  wood. 

"All's  well !"  cried  a  distant  sentry,  and  a  more 
distant  voice  replied,  "All's  well!"  But  Estelle 
stood  pale  and  still  in  the  little  patch  of  moonlight, 
her  eyes  wide,  staring  into  the  shadows. 


THE  REVELATION.  139 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THE   REVELATION. 

In  the  lamplighted  coziness  of  the  dining-room, 
after  experiencing  at  supper  the  civilized  charm  of 
silver  and  white  napery,  Von  Benzinger  had  left  the 
ladies.  His  headquarters  were  established  by  Cap- 
tain Geary  in  the  library  and  the  bedroom  behind  it. 
The  headquarters'  guard  set  up  their  tents  near  the 
stables,  and  sentries  were  posted  about  the  house. 
Von  Benzinger's  servants  were  quartered  with  the 
guard.  The  General  went  to  his  room,  wrote  out  a 
telegram,  and  unbuttoning  his  blouse,  placed  the  pa- 
per carefully  in  his  shirt  pocket.  Then  he  called  for 
his  horse,  and  telling  Geary  that  he  was  going  to  in- 
spect the  outposts,  rode  away  unattended.  Through 
the  window  Virginia  had  seen  him  riding  ofT  in  the 
weird  night.  The  uncanny  redness  of  earth  and  sky 
somehow  harmonized  with  her  impression  of  a  mys- 
tery about  this  man,  from  whom  she  had  received  a 
vague  impression  of  fear,  even  before  Willis  told 


140  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

her  that  he  suspected  Hamilton  of  treachery.  How 
should  Von  Benzinger  know  ? 

After  the  revelation  of  Harlan's  treachery  to  the 
South,  and  the  certainty  that  somewhere  that  day 
there  had  been  treachery  to  the  North,  Virginia  was 
bewildered  by  the  mazes  of  dishonor  that  were  open- 
ing about  her.  She  trusted  Earl — yes  ;  if  he  intend- 
ed to  fight  for  the  South  he  would  do  it  openly. 
And  yet  it  looked  so  plausible.  He  had  hired  the 
pilots;  the  pilots  had  played  false.  Was  the  sus- 
picion of  Hamilton  widespread,  or  was  it  merely 
Von  Benzinger  who  suspected  him  ?  And  did  Von 
Benzinger  have  some  motive  of  his  own  for  start- 
ing the  rumor?  Much  as  she  disliked  the  task,  Vir- 
ginia determined,  for  Earl's  sake,  to  get  all  the  in- 
formation she  possibly  could  out  of  the  General. 

Mrs.  Poynter  and  the  Squire  had  walked  down 
toward  the  bay ;  Willis  was  writing  in  the  small 
tower  room  upstairs ;  Geary  had  ridden  down  to 
Newport  News,  and  she  had  sent  Harlan  away.  The 
coast  seemed  clear  for  a  confidential  talk  with  Von 
Benzinger.  He  at  least  must  be  confidential,  and 
she  must  seem  so.  She  called  a  servant  to  light  up 
the  chandelier  full  of  candles  in  the  parlor.  Idly 
she  picked  up  a  small  book  of  verses  by  Richard 
Lovelace — the  cloaked  and  rapiered  cavalier  who 
was  more  gentleman  than  poet — more  soldier  than 


THE  REVELATION.  141 

gentleman,  and  yet,  for  some  dozen  stanzas,  a  peer- 
less poet.  And  Virginia  read  with  new  sense  of 
their  meaning  the  three  stanzas  to  Celia : 

Tell  me  not,  sweet,  I  am  unkind, 

That  from  the  nunnery 
Of  thy  chaste  breast  and  quiet  mind 

To  war  and  arms  I  fly. 

True,  a  new  mistress  now  I  chase — 

The  first  foe  in  the  field — 
And  with  a  stronger  faith  embrace 

A  sword,  a  horse,  a  shield. 

But  this  inconstancy  is  such 

As  you,  too,  shall  adore; 
I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much 

Loved  I  not  honor  more. 

"Loved  I  not  honor  more,"  she  mused.  "Could 
any  man  ever  say  that  more  truly  than  Earl?  He 
cannot  be  a  traitor?" 

Through  the  open  window  she  heard  the  trot  of 
hoofs  on  the  shell  road,  and  the  challenge  of  the 
sentry.  Presently  Von  Benzinger  came  in  and 
paused  in  the  hall. 

"Ah,  Miss  Eggleston,"  he  said.  "I  was  afraid  I 
would  not  see  you  again  tonight.  Do  you  know 
how  rich  the  moonlight  is  upon  the  blossoms  ?  Will 
you  not  watch  it  with  me  ?" 

"Gladly,    General,"    said    Virginia,    rising    and 


142  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

going  out  with  him  upon  the  gallery.  There  was 
a  light  stir  in  the  shrubbery  close  to  the  steps,  but 
neither  Virginia  nor  Von  Benzinger  observed  it. 
The  deep  moonlight  nearly  obliterated  the  red  tinge 
'thrown  by  the  burning  ship ;  trees  and  bushes  cast 
long  black  shadows  across  the  lawn.  Here  and 
there  in  a  shadow  high  up  the  light  from  the  ship 
had  play.  The  air  was  fragrant  with  the  scent  of 
crabapple  and  magnolia  blossoms.  Now  and  then 
a  slow,  white  cloud  would  pass  beneath  the  moon, 
darkening  the  world ;  occasionally  a  traveling- 
breeze  would  come  from  afar  and  stir  the  leaves 
and  die  away  in  the  night. 

"Your  work  is  done  then  for  today?"  Virginia 
said. 

"For  today,  yes."  He  smiled  as  though  the  idea 
of  his  day's  work  pleased  him.  "Are  you  not  very 
loyal  to  the  South,  Miss  Eggleston?"  he  said,  after 
a  pause, 

"Do  you  expect  me  to  say  no  to  that?  I  cannot, 
for  I  do  love  my  country." 

"Could  you  be  friends,  then,  with  a  man  who  was 
your  country's  enemy?"  That  morning  she  had 
told  him  she  could  not.  But  now  there  rose  in  her 
mind  the  thought  of  the  noon  hour  when,  in  hearing 
of  the  roar  of  battle,  she  had  given  her  whole  heart 
to  a  sailor  in  the  Northern  navy — the  sailor  she  was 


THE  REVELATION.  143 

trying  now  to  save.  "I  did  not  think  so  till  today," 
she  said. 

Von  Benzinger  thrilled,  thinking,  of  course,  that 
he  had  changed  her  mind. 

"And  today  ?"  he  said. 

"Today  I  found  that  I  could  be  friends  with  a 
man  who  fights  as  his  conscience  makes  him — 
against  the  South." 

"But  suppose  that,  after  all,  this  man  was  really 
fighting  for  the  South?  Could  you  not  like  him 
more?"    Von  Benzinger  bent  forward  eagerly. 

Was  this  a  trap  ?  Did  this  Federal  know  of  Ham- 
ilton's connection  with  her?  Did  Von  Benzinger 
suspect  her  of  making  Earl  disloyal  to  the  North? 
She  was  dazed  by  the  quick,  dangerous  question, 
and  did  not  reply. 

"Suppose  this  man,"  he  went  on,  "had  done  the 
South  a  great  service — that  through  him  the  cause 
you  love  should  triumph  in  this  war?  Would  not 
that  help  him  in  your  eyes  ?" 

"If  his  service  were  done  honorably — yes." 

"Who  can  decide  for  another  what  is  honorable?" 
he  said.  "The  world  has  one  pot  of  pitch  and  an- 
other of  Chinese  white,  and  it  daubs  with  one  or  the 
other  all  men,  and  all  actions.  Genius  works  by 
its  own  laws — it  brushes  away  conventions  like  to 
spider  webs."    He  spoke  with  strange  earnestness, 


144  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

his  accent  and  idiom  becoming  slightly  more  for- 
eign. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  she  said. 

"I  mean  that  a  strong  man  who  has  one  great 
idea — one  splendid  purpose — should  tear  down 
what  will  stop  him — he  is  not  bound  by  common 
right  and  wrong — he  is  above  them." 

"A  man  should  be  true  to  his  word  and  to  his 
country,"  said  Virginia,  simply.  She  could  not 
see  what  Von  Benzinger's  talk  had  to  do  with  any- 
thing in  the  situation. 

"Miss  Eggleston,"  he  said,  "I  am  a  lonely  man. 
I  have  no  one  to  share  my  triumphs — no  one  to  tell 
my  temptations — no  one  I  can  show  the  real  rea- 
sons— the  true  motives — which  justify  and  make 
honorable  the  things  which  on  the  surface  do  not 
look  so."  He  moved  closer  to  her,  and  his  voice 
found  strangely  soft  modulations.  "Now,  in  the 
beauty  of  your  Southern  night,  while  the  cannon 
of  the  ships  do  sleep,  I  would  give  my  whole  soul  to 
you,  confide  all  to  you — and  so  would  win  your 
confidence,  your  sympathy." 

"Remember,  my  sympathy  is  Confederate,"  she 
warned  him.  She  wanted  him  to  tell  her  about 
Hamilton,  and  he  seemed  bent  on  telling  her  about 
himself.  She  did  not  want  his  confidences — except 
as  to  one  thing.     It  was  a  new  experience  to  Vir- 


THE  REVELATION.  145 

ginia.  She  was  only  half  aware  of  the  power  a  girl 
like  herself  had  over  men,  and  she  did  not  know 
how  to  use  the  power.  Mrs.  Poynter's  skill  would 
have  spared  her  the  necessity  of  Hstening  to  what 
she  did  not  want  to  hear. 

"Yes,  you  are  Confederate,"  he  said,  "and  there- 
fore you  rejoice  to  see  that  sight."  He  pointed 
toward  the  burning  Congress.  "Do  you  know  what 
that  is?"  he  went  on,  springing  up  and  speaking 
in  a  low,  intense  voice.  "That  is  the  funeral  torch 
of  all  the  wooden  navies  of  the  world.  That  means 
that  my  thought — my  iron  thought — the  Merrimac 
— is  triumphant  over  the  strongest  frigates  of  the 
North.  Tomorrow  there  will  be  no  fleet  in  Hamp- 
ton Roads.  No  Northern  ship  will  block  the  way 
from  Richmond  to  the  sea.  The  Peninsular  cam- 
paign, which  would  have  poured  McClellan's  army 
through  these  fields,  cannot  be  made.  The  Merri- 
mac cuts  off  that  army's  base.  And  when  the  Mer- 
rimac lays  Washington  in  ashes,  your  country  will 
be  recognized  by  all  the  world !" 

"Splendid!"  cried  Virginia,  swept  away  for  an 
instant  by  the  glowing  image  of  Confederate  suc- 
cess. "But  how  can  you  exult  in  the  defeat  of  your 
country  ?" 

"My  country?  MonDieu!  How  unjust!  What 
are  the  United  States  to  me?     I  have  no  drop  of 


146  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Yankee  blood.  My  father  was  an  Alsatian  noble, 
my  mother  a  sweet  peasant  in  the  north  of  Spain. 
I  was  brought  up  in  luxury,  then  cast  penniless 
upon  the  world,  without  friends,  influence,  name. 
My  father  would  have  recognized  me,  but  could 
not  by  law.  I  fought  my  way  by  my  own  will — I 
slaved  in  mine  and  mill  and  ship  and  camp — I 
learned  the  sciences,  the  tongues — I  fought  the 
world — its  law,  its  prejudice ;  I  made  it  bow  to  me 
and  my  idea,  which  was  born  of  the  anguish  of  my 
life.  I  came  to  this  country  a  famous  man.  Their 
eyes  are  bounded  by  their  shores — they  do  not 
know  what  I  have  done — they  laugh  at  me!  To- 
night they  do  not  laugh!"  His  black-bearded  lips 
curled  open,  showing  his  white  teeth.  "I  come  here 
neutral — a  foreigner.  The  North  reject  me  and  my 
plans.  The  South  was  wiser — they  did  not  re- 
ject." 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  yourself  gave  our  gov- 
ernment the  plans  to  make  the  Merrimac?"  asked 
Virginia,  dazed,  and  more  than  half  expecting  an 
indignant  denial. 

Von  Benzinger  swept  on  in  the  intoxication  of 
laying  bare  his  heart  to  this  woman  who  had  fasci- 
nated him. 

"To  you,  your  Government — the  Naval  Secretary, 
Mallory,  I  gave  the  plans  to  make  from  that  old 


THE  REVELATION.  147 

wooden  ship  this  iron  Merrimac.  When  she — my 
dragon — sweeps  the  sea,  your  country  will  reward 
me  with  such  power  as  I  deserve." 

The  mask  had  fallen — this  was  the  man  himself. 
The  reality  overwhelmed  her.  What  duplicity,  what 
cunning,  what  blunted  sense  of  honor !  What  skill 
to  do  this  thing  and  have  no  soul  suspect !  And 
now  in  telling  her,  what  folly,  what  infatuation,  what 
weak  yielding  to  the  glamour  of  theatrical  efifect ! 
She  could  not  realize  or  grasp  the  thing — it  dizzied 
her.  She  could  not  believe  it;  she  could  not  be- 
lieve that  he  was  telling  it,  even  were  it  true.  She 
did  not  allow  for  the  fact  that  he  was  drunk  with 
victory,  that  he  had  just  received,  in  the  woods 
beyond  his  outposts,  a  telegram  from  Mallory,  who 
hailed  him  as  the  savior  of  the  South.  Nor  did  she 
realize  that  his  quick  passions  had  made  the  win- 
ning of  her  his  chief  object  for  the  moment.  She 
felt,  though,  that  he  was  trying  to  fascinate  her  by 
flashing  himself  upon  her  imagination  as  the  instru- 
ment by  which  the  South  would  win  its  independ- 
ence. But  he  did  not  reckon  sufficiently  with  her 
sense  of  honor,  which  was  revolted  by  a  traitor — no 
matter  how  dazzling  his  success,  how  large  the  scale 
of  his  schemes,  or  how  beneficial  his  treachery 
might  be  to  the  cause  she  loved.     He  counted  on 

her  love  for  the  South.     He  had  no  reason  to  sus- 
lo 


148  IN  HAMPTON   ROADS. 

pect  the  counteracting  love  she  felt  for  a  Northern 
naval  officer.  Virginia  was  terrified  at  the  vastness 
of  his  revelation.  Instead  of  the  cool,  self-controlled 
soldier  of  the  morning,  she  saw  him  now  ablaze  with 
passions.  She  had,  without  realizing  it,  unchained 
a  terrible  force.    Could  she  control  it  ? 

"Why  are  you  silent?"  he  demanded. 

"I — it  is  so  hard  for  me  to  realize — I  cannot  get 
used  to  your  being  really  a  Confederate.  The  thing 
is  so  vast — it  dizzies  me  to  think  of,  it." 

"Ah !  You  see  how  vast  it  is !"  he  exclaimed, 
flattered  by  the  word.  "I  was  right,  you  have  the 
soul  to  respond  to  a  great  thing.  Yes,  tomorrow 
in  Richmond  I  will  be  the  hero  of  the  hour.  But 
here  tonight,  I  swear  to  you,  beautiful  woman,  that 
I  would  rather  have  your  gratitude,  your  love,  than 
all  the  honors  and  rewards  your  countrymen  can 
shower  upon  me." 

"Do  not  say  that,"  she  exclaimed,  desperately 
trying  to  avoid  the  declaration  toward  which  he 
was  surging. 

But  he  swept  on  like  a  savage  chief,  chanting  the 
story  of  his  prowess — the  enemies  he  has  slain — the 
insults  he  has  heaped  upon  their  lifeless  bodies.  Be- 
fore he  cast  himself  and  his  achievements  at  her 
feet,  he  meant  that  she  should  realize  their  magni- 
tude.   "It  is  I  who  will  make  free  your  land.    It  is 


THE  REVELATION.  149 

I — here  in  my  obscurity,  neglected  by  the  North — 
it  is  my  brain  which  made  the  Merrimac.  It  is 
through  me  the  secrets  of  the  North  are  known  in 
Richmond — it  is  I  who  ran  the  ships  upon  the 
shoals — my  brain,  m^oving  the  hands  of  pilots  in 
the  bay.  It  is  I  who  made  that  crimson  cloud  on 
Hampton  Roads — that  fiery  dawn  of  a  new  nation's 
day — your  nation — the  Confederate  States  of  Amer- 
ica!" 

As  Von  Benzinger  pronounced  the  name  of  the " 
Confederacy,  there  was  a  flare  of  light  so  powerful 
that  it  quenched  the  moonlight.  The  whole  land- 
scape sprang  vividly  out  of  the  night — the  outline 
of  every  leaf  sharp-cut.  Von  Benzinger  and  Vir- 
ginia turned  toward  the  bay.  From  the  spot  where 
the  Congress  had  been  burning,  a  cascade  of  fire 
was  rushing  into  the  sky  and  spreading  out  like  a 
huge  fan.  The  sound  of  a  deep  explosion  filled 
their  ears  and  shook  the  ground.  From  the  fan 
burst  a  down-pouring  rain  of  fire ;  huge  blocks  of 
flame  fell  back  into  the  water  and  were  dark. 

"The  Confederate  States  of  America!"  mused 
Virginia.  "God  grant  that  this  is  not  a  presage  of 
their  fate !" 

"Bah !"  said  Von  Benzinger.  "That  was  the  mag- 
azine of  the  Congress.     Tomorrow  we  shall  have 


150  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

some  more  such  pretty  fireworks.  The  Minnesota 
will  be  the  first  to  follow  her  to  heaven." 

The  sentries,  violating  orders,  stopped  at  the 
juncture  of  their  posts  and  exchanged  low  com- 
ments on  the  explosion.  From  the  negro  quarters 
came  the  high  voice  of  a  dusky  parson  praying  for 
his  flock  in  what  he  supposed  to  be  the  end  of  the 
world.  The  battle,  the  livid  light  burning  through 
the  evening,  the  explosion,  and  the  great  cross  of 
fire  which  they  had  seen  in  the  sky,  had  brought 
the  black  folks  to  the  highest  point  of  religious 
terror. 

Willis,  getting  up  his  story  of  the  Merrimac  fight, 
heard  the  explosion,  stuck  his  head  out  of  the  tower 
window,  watched  the  geyser  of  fire  sink  back  into 
the  sea,  and  returning  to  work,  gave  the  explosion 
its  proper  literary  place  in  his  manuscript. 

The  diversion  had  come  providentially  for  Vir- 
ginia. General  von  Benzinger  had  reached  a  point 
where  he  was  not  easy  to  manage.  The  next  mo- 
ment he  would  have  asked  her  to  become  his  bride 
in  Richmond ;  she  would  have  refused  him,  and  all 
hope  of  finding  out  if  he  meant  to  direct  suspicion 
against  Hamilton  would  have  disappeared.  Now 
she  took  the  reins  in  her  own  hands.  She  began  to 
comprehend  Von  Benzinger. 

"But,  General — to  come  back  to  what  you  were 


THE  REVELATION.  151 

telling  me — how  have  you  managed  it  that  the  Fed- 
erals have  not  suspected  your  connection  with  the 
Merrimac  ?" 

"Why  should  they  suspect,  dear  lady?  Nothing 
has  been  seen.  Besides  they  have  no  genius  for 
intrigue."  Indeed,  Von  Benzinger's  feline  instinct 
for  the  indirect,  the  cunning,  the  subtle,  had  stood 
him  in  good  stead.  An  American  officer,  placed  as 
he  was,  would  have  resigned  his  commission,  gone 
straight  to  Richmond,  and  tried  his  fortune  with  the 
Confederade  Navy  Department.  But  Von  Benzin- 
ger  feared  that  the  South  would  be  as  blind  as  the 
North  to  the  utility  of  the  armor-plating  adopted 
by  France  and  England.  So,  still  holding  his  com- 
mission, he  sounded  the  Confederate  Government. 
When  Mallory  and  his  advisors  jumped  at  the 
chance  to  secure  from  the  constructor  of  La 
Gloire,  plans  for  an  armored  vessel  which  should 
counterbalance  the  immense  naval  preponderance 
of  the  North,  Von  Benzinger,  for  very  love  of  it, 
continued  to  play  the  double  game  he  had  begun. 
It  required  skill,  and  he  had  it. 

"But  now,"  went  on  Virginia,  closing  in  upon 
the  information  she  was  after,  "they  are  sure  the 
Union  pilots  were  secretly  Confederates.  Will  they 
not  trace  this  back  to  you  ?  They  say  some  Federal 
officer  is  behind  it." 


152  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"How  did  you  know  that?"  asked  Von  Benzinger. 

"Everyone — all  the  soldiers  are  talking  about  it." 

"Do  they  name  the  officer?"  asked  he,  his  voice 
returning  to  his  decisive,  purposeful  tones. 

"It  was  not  you,"  she  said. 

He  made  a  gesture  showing  the  impossibility  of 
that. 

"I  think  they  said  it  was  some  officer  of  the  fleet," 
she  suggested. 

"Naturally,"  replied  he,  coolly.  "How  should  a 
man  ashore  have  anything  to  do  with  it  ?"  A  pleas- 
anter  thought  seemed  to  cross  his  mind,  banish- 
ing the  subject  of  his  possible  detection. 

"What  do  I  care.  Mademoiselle  Virginia,"  he 
said, — "tomorrow  night  in  Richmond,  what  do  I 
care  ?  The  Yankees  can  think  what  they  will.  But 
you — " 

"But,  General,"  she  interrupted,  seeing  whither 
he  was  turning,  "suppose  the  Minnesota  beats  the 
Merrimac,  and  the  Yankees  are  not  driven  out  of 
Hampton  Roads?" 

"Impossible !"  he  answered. 

"But  if?" 

"There  is  no  'if.'  The  Yankees  must  be  driven 
from  the  Roads — yes,  from  the  sea.  The  Ericsson 
battery,  the  only  iron  ship  the  Union  has,  will  be 
kept  in  the  Potomac  by  the  cowards  at  Washington. 


THE  REVELATION.  153 

And  what  could  such  a  toy  do  with  the  Merrimac  ? 
The  Merrimac  would  crush  even  La  Gloire  with 
her  beak — she  would,  if  that  beak  were,  according 
to  my  specifications,  steel.  La  Gloire  would  shoot 
at  her  and  her  shots  would  glance  in  the  air." 

"But  if  anything  should  happen — if  the  Merri- 
mac should  be  blown  up,  for  instance — you  would 
still  receive  these  great  rewards  from  the  Confed- 
eracy ?" 

"In  that  case,  no,"  he  smiled.  "Are  you  afraid 
the  Merrimac  will  be  blown  up?" 

"It  would  surely  be  a  great  misfortune  for  the 
South,"  she  said,  sincerely.  "But  in  such  a  case, 
would  you  not  fear  the  Federals  would  find  out 
your — "  she  checked  the  word  "treachery"  upon 
her  lips — "find  out  what  you  have  done  for  us  ?" 

"You  look  far  ahead,"  he  said,  wondering  why 
she  pressed  the  point  so. 

"It  is  but  my  solicitude." 

So  it  was,  oh  deceitful  Virginia,  intriguing  against 
an  arch-intriguer,  deceiving  a  past-master  of  de- 
ceit. It  was  solicitude  for  Hamilton  down  yonder 
in  the  bay,  whose  ship  was  doomed  to  sink  or  burn 
tomorrow,  whose  life  and  honor,  as  she  now  saw 
well,  would  be  sacrificed  by  this  powerful,  unscrupu- 
lous man,  if  it  became  necessary  to  shield  himself. 

Virginia  had  found  out  what  she  wanted  to  know 


154  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

and  far  more.  And  in  allaying  his  suspicion  she  did 
more  than  she  meant.  Her  sweet  speech — its  irony 
quite  unperceived  by  him — sent  through  Von  Ben- 
zinger  a  delicious  thrill  that  brought  him  to  his 
knees  with  words  of  burning  love  upon  his  lips. 
Fortunately  a  horseman,  riding  fast,  pulled  up  at 
the  gate  just  then  and  was  passed  by  the  sentry. 
Von  Benzinger,  glowing  with  delighted  hope,  did 
not  hear  or  see. 

"Someone  is  coming,  General,"  she  said. 

"Exasperating!"  he  exclaimed.  It  was  very  awk- 
ward to  rise  from  one's  knees  under  such  circum- 
stances. But  to  him,  already  possessed  with  the  idea 
that  he  had  made  a  deep  impression  upon  her  heart, 
her  words  seemed  to  indicate  that  when  the  oppor- 
tunity came  she  would  listen  gladly  to  his  words  of 
love. 

The  rider  was  Captain  Geary.  Instead  of  taking 
his  horse  to  the  stable  or  calling  a  man,  he  tied 
the  animal  in  front  of  the  house,  and  started  rapidly 
up  the  steps.  Catching  sight  of  Von  Benzinger's 
white  hair  upon  the  veranda,  he  saluted  and  said : 

"General,  I  have  news  of  the  utmost  importance." 
Geary  did  not  see  Virginia  sitting  in  the  shadow 
of  the  veranda  roof.  Acknowledging  the  salute, 
Von  Benzinger  stepped  toward  the  Captain.     He 


THE  REVELATION.  155 

did  not  care  what  Virginia  heard,  for  she  would 
soon  be  his. 

"Well?"  said  he,  expectantly. 

"The  Monitor — Ericsson's  new  floating  battery 
— has  come  into  the  Roads  from  New  York,  and 
will  remain  here  tomorrow  to  fight  the  Merrimac." 
Geary's  voice  was  low  and  earnest. 

"The  Monitor !"  exclaimed  Von  Benzinger,  with 
astonishment.  "The  Monitor  was  ordered  from 
New  York  to  Washington." 

"Her  commander,  Lieutenant  Worden,  will  dis- 
obey orders,  and  remain  here  tomorrow.  He  be- 
lieves the  Monitor  can  whip  the  Merrimac  and  save 
the  fleet." 

"Diable!"  said  Von  Benzinger,  under  his  breath. 
And  then  to  account  for  his  displeasure,  he  said, 
quickly :  "The  Monitor  will  be  destroyed.  Worden 
should  obey  orders." 

"Certainly,  sir,  but  he  won't  do  it.  And  what  is 
more,  this  Lieutenant  Hamilton,  whom  you  suspect 
of  treachery,  is  to  pilot  the  Monitor  in  the  battle. 
When  I  heard  it,  I  hastened  to  you,  that  you  might 
stop  him." 

"I  will  stop  him,"  said  Von  Benzinger,  savagely. 

There  was  a  quick  movement  on  the  veranda. 
"Who's  that?"  asked  Geary,  startled. 

"You  are  right,   Geary,"   said  Von   Benzinger, 


156  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

standing  so  the  light  from  the  hall  fell  into  the  Cap- 
tain's eyes.     "This  is  very  important." 

Pretending  to  be  pondering  the  news,  the  Gen- 
eral paid  no  attention  to  Geary's  startled  question. 
He  did  not  care  to  let  his  adjutant  know  that  he 
had  permitted  Federal  secrets  to  be  discussed  in 
Virginia's  hearing.  "Take  your  horse  around,  and 
come  to  my  room."  Before  the  Captain's  return, 
Virginia  could  slip  quietly  into  the  house.  As  he 
went  down  the  steps,  Geary  peered  blinkingly  into 
the  gallery,  but  could  see  nothing. 


SHUT  IN.  157 


CHAPTER  XII. 


SHUT  IN. 


Geary  out  of  the  way  for  the  moment,  Von  Ben- 
zinger  stepped  quickly  to  Virginia,  and  said :  "The 
Captain  must  not  know  you  were  here.  Good- 
night, sweet  one.  My  secret,  like  my  heart,  is  yours, 
yours  only.  Guard  it  well.  I  trust  you."  He 
pressed  her  hands.  They  were  like  ice.  "Are  you 
ill  ?"  he  asked. 

She  could  hardly  speak  for  the  terror  that  had 
sprung  up  in  her.  "Today  has  been  too  much — the 
battle — the  anxiety — good-night."  She  could  not 
force  herself  to  give  him  her  hand.  She  fled  into  the 
house  and  up  to  her  room.  She  must  think.  She 
must  act.  Act  quickly.  She  was  alone.  If  only 
Cora  were  here — ah,  what  could  Cora  do  against 
Von  Benzinger?  She  must  accuse  Von  Benzinger. 
Then  at  the  thought  she  laughed  hysterically.  Who 
would  believe  her? — the  story  was  so  wild,  so  im- 
possible.    And  coming  from  her — a  Southerner — 


158  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

to  shield  Hamilton,  the  Southerner,  who  was  ac- 
cused of  treason  to  the  North !  Her  story  would 
confirm  his  guilt.  What  power  guarded  this  man 
Von  Benzinger  and  made  him  like  his  Merrimac — 
invulnerable  ? 

"What  shall  I  do,  what  can  be  done?"  Ah,  there 
was  one  thing.  She  could  forewarn  Earl  of  the  im- 
pending accusation.  He  might  take  steps  to  meet 
it.    Seth  knew  the  way  to  him — she  must  send  Seth. 

She  could  see  the  square  of  light  cast  from  the 
tower  window  upon  the  foliage  of  the  elm  outside. 
A  shadow  passed  across  the  square.  It  was  Willis — 
quiet,  determined  Willis,  Earl's  friend,  who  had 
asked  her  help  for  Earl.  She  flew  to  his  door  and 
knocked.  "Mr.  Willis,"  she  called,  in  a  low  voice, 
"Mr.  Willis !"  Willis  threw  open  the  door  and  the 
light  fell  upon  her  pale  face  and  into  her  wild  eyes. 

"Good  heavens.  Miss  Eggleston,  what  has  hap- 
pened?" he  asked. 

"Will  you  believe  me,  Mr.  Willis  ?  Will  you  be- 
lieve I  am  telling  you  the  truth?  I  swear  it  is  the 
truth." 

"Easy,  easy,"  said  Willis,  getting  possession  of 
himself.  "Now,  take  it  easy.  Miss  Eggleston,  and 
tell  me  quietly.  I'll  believe  you  quicker  than  Holy 
Writ,  whatever  you  may  say." 


SHUT  IN.  159 

"General  von  Benzinger  is  a  Confederate.  He 
designed  the  Merrimac." 

Willis  started.  Then  he  stared.  "Will  you  please 
say  that  again  ?"  he  said,  slowly. 

"I  knew  you'd  not  believe  me  1"  she  cried,  in  de- 
spair. 

"Hold  on,"  he  said.  "Von  Benzinger — the  Mer- 
rimac.   By  Jimtown !" 

"Oh,  please  believe  me,  Mr.  WilHs.  Earl's  life 
and  honor  are  at  stake." 

"Von  Benzinger — the  Merrimac.  Why,  what  a 
cussed  fool  I've  been.  It's  plain  as  print.  La  Gloire 
is  French  for  Merrimac.  I'm  poor  at  French. 
Well,  Miss  Eggleston,  what  next? — speak  low." 

"The  Monitor  has  come — to  fight  the  Merrimac. 
Oh — what  if  I  lose  the  battle  by  doing  this?"  A 
sudden  pang  of  loyalty  revealed  to  her  that  to  save 
Hamilton  she  must  work  against  the  South — the 
Merrimac — Von  Benzinger.  But  Earl — his  honor 
— dearer  to  him  than  life.  "Oh !"  she  cried,  "it  can- 
not be  disloyal  to  save  the  true  man  from  the  false 
— the  noble  enemy  from  the  treacherous  friend." 

"Disloyal?"  said  WilHs.  "Maybe  it's  disloyal, 
Miss  Eggleston,  but  it's  right,  and  you  know  it. 
What  about  the  Monitor?" 

"Earl  is  to  pilot  her.  Von  Benzinger  will  accuse 
him  to  stop  him — so  the  Merrimac  can  win.     Go 


160  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

down  and  warn  him,  Mr.  Willis.  Take  Bay  Nellie, 
and  go  quickly  or  it  may  be  too  late." 

"Good  thing  enough  to  warn  him,"  said  Willis, 
"but  that  ain't  enough.  Can't  you  send  someone 
else?  I'd  like  to  stay  here  and  watch  things.  We 
ought  to  get  hold  of  something  on  Von  Benzinger. 
It's  not  easy — the  old  fox.  And  the  story  is  so  im- 
possible, he's  safe.  /  believe  it,"  he  hastened  to  say, 
"I  believe  anything  about  that  man — but  other  peo- 
ple won't.  Let  me  see?"  He  folded  his  arms  and 
knitted  his  brows,  thinking.  From  the  gallery  steps 
came  the  sound  of  Von  Benzinger's  voice,  talking 
excitedly.  "Now  what's  that?"  said  Willis.  "I  be- 
lieve that's  worth  hearing." 

The  correspondent  slipped  softly  down  the  back 
way,  leaving  Virginia  alone. 

She  must  send  Seth  then,  after  all.  Willis  could 
do  more  good  here.  She  went  to  her  room,  wrote 
rapidly  a  note  of  warning  to  Earl.  Then  she  went 
to  Seth's  room  in  the  back  of  the  house,  woke  him, 
told  him  he  must  dress  himself,  saddle  a  horse  and 
ride  to  the  bay.  He  was  to  come  to  her  room  for 
the  note  and  his  instructions.  Virginia  slipped  back 
to  her  room  and  waited  in  an  agony  of  suspense. 
How  slow  Seth  was!  What  was  Willis  doing?  If 
the  note  were  only  safely  started !  The  time  was  in- 
terminable, and  she  had  a  feeling  that  things  were 


SHUT  IN.  161 

happening  beneath  her  in  the  yard.  She  thought 
she  heard  the  voice  of  Harlan.  Surely  it  could  not 
be.  Seth  came  at  last  and  took  the  note.  She 
could  see  that  her  manner  terrified  him.  "Go  quiet- 
ly," she  said,  "and  saddle  the  horse.  The  counter- 
sign is  'Virginia,  Fair,  Rebel.'  You  say  the  first 
word,  the  sentry  the  second,  and  you  the  third." 

"I  done  hear  'em  do  it,  Miss  Virginia.  I  knows 
how.  Don'  yo'  worry,  Miss  Virginia,  I  take  yo' 
note  to  de  ship,  even  if  I  is  scared.    I  do  it  fo'  yo'." 

"Don't  stop ;  don't  stop  to  talk,  but  go."  Seth 
left  for  the  stable,  and  again  came  that  dreadful  fear 
of  unknown  things  happening  about  her.  She 
thought  she  saw  figures  moving  in  the  shadows. 

"Halt !"  rang  the  sentry's  voice  in  the  still  night. 
The  cold,  sharp  word  gave  Virginia  a  violent  start. 
Who  was  leaving? — it  was  not  time  for  Seth.  There 
was  a  moment's  pause  while  the  countersign  was 
given. 

"The  countersign  is  right — pass  on." 

Two  minutes  later  came  again  that  startling 
"Halt !"    Again  someone  was  passed. 

Silence  again.  Then  she  heard  someone  speak- 
ing low  to  the  sentry.  Then  the  speaker  entered 
the  house.  A  moment  later  she  heard  Von  Benzin- 
ger  come  in,  and  then  his  voice,  down  stairs.  She 
slipped   to   the   banister   and   listened.      "Captain 


162  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Geary,"  said  the  General,  "I  have  instructed  the 
sentries  to  pass  no  one  whatever,  with  or  without 
the  countersign.  There  are  spies  here.  You  will 
so  inform  the  officer  of  the  guard." 

A  great  sickening  fear  came  over  Virginia  and 
she  leaned  back  against  the  wall.  Whom  did  he 
mean  ?  Could  it  be  Harlan  ?  No.  What  had  hap- 
pened? Where  was  Willis?  Was  he  accused? 
Seth  could  not  get  through  with  his  message. 

She  heard  Geary's  footsteps.  He  was  going  to 
give  the  order  to  the  guard. 

"And,  Geary,"  came  the  General's  voice  again — 
bitter,  confident.  "Instruct  the  guard  to  arrest  and 
search  all  those  who  try  to  pass."  If  Seth  reached 
the  sentry  before  she  could  stop  him,  her  note  warn- 
ing Hamilton  against  the  accusation  would  soon  be 
in  Von  Benzinger's  hands. 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  163 


CHAPTER  XIIL 


THE  FATAL  SHOT. 

When  Virginia  left  Von  Benzinger  on  the  gal- 
lery, he  turned  his  mind  to  the  new  factor  in  his 
problem — the  Monitor.  Others  thought  her  an  in- 
genious toy ;  he  knew  she  was  dangerous.  The 
Merrimac  could  have  destroyed  the  wooden  fleet 
without  the  co-operation  of  the  Union  pilots.  They 
had  simply  made  assurance  doubly  sure.  Now  it 
was  to  be  iron  against  iron,  and  the  Monitor's  pilot 
might  decide  the  battle.  If  he  could  remove  Ham- 
ilton, there  would  be  absolutely  no  one  in  the  fleet 
who  knew  the  water  and  could  be  trusted.  Von 
Benzinger  had  promised  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment to  clear  the  Roads.  If  he  failed,  they  owed 
him  nothing — and,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  his  in- 
vention would  be  outclassed  by  Ericsson's ;  the 
world  would  never  even  hear  of  him  as  the  inventor 
of  the  Merrimac.    Yes,  Hamilton  must  be  accused, 

but,  being  accused,  he  must  be  convicted.     If  the 
11 


164  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Monitor  did  win,  Von  Benzinger  must  remain  a 
Federal.  To  do  that  safely,  someone  else  had  to  be 
proved  the  briber  of  the  pilots.  Hamilton  had 
hired  them ;  he  was  open  to  suspicion,  but  there 
must  be  proof.  Where  find  it?  How  make  it? 
What  things  could  be  twisted  into  proof?  Geary 
knew  nothing  more  than  he  had  told.  Geary  would 
not  help  him  manufacture  evidence.  He  must  find 
someone  who  would.  He  must  find  someone  who 
knew  Hamilton.  But,  who?  WiUis  would  not 
do — he  was  too  clever.  These  things  flashed 
through  Von  Benzinger's  agile  mind  in  far  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  write  them.  The  elements  of 
the  situation  were  grasped  by  him  all  at  once  and 
as  a  whole.  Thinking,  waiting  for  Geary,  he  had 
descended  the  steps,  his  hands  behind  him,  his  head 
bowed,  his  eyes  upon  the  ground. 

"Von  Benzinger !"  said  a  hoarse,  low  voice,  close 
by.  In  spite  of  his  steady  nerves,  the  General 
started  and  whirled  toward  the  sound  of  the  voice. 
It  came  from  the  shrubbery,  not  ten  feet  from 
where  he  had  revealed  his  secret  to  Virginia. 

"Who's  there?"  he  demanded,  and  in  his  voice 
was  fear — a  feeling  he  had  almost  forgotten.  He 
felt  for  his  pistol — it  was  not  there.  The  bushes 
parted  and  a  man  stepped  out.  The  General  glared 
at  him. 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  165 

"I  want  to  see  you,  Von  Benzinger." 

"Who  are  you  ?"  hissed  Von  Benzinger. 

"I  was  introduced  to  you  this  morning  as  Rob- 
ertson." 

"Lafe  Harlan!  You  eavesdropper!  I'll  have 
the  soldiers  finish  you !"  Von  Benzinger  was  about 
to  call  the  corporal  of  the  guard. 

"Hold  on,"  said  Harlan.  "I  know  your  whole 
scheme.  I  know  what'll  smash  you,  and  I  know 
what'll  save  you.  You  can  help  me  or  smash  me, 
Von  Benzinger,  but  don't  you  believe  I  can't  do 
the  same  to  you.  If  I  drop  dead  right  here,  your 
goose  is  cooked.  I  tell  you,  if  you  don't  hear  what 
I  say,  you're  a  goner." 

Geary  came  suddenly  around  the  house.  Harlan 
made  a  quick  movement  toward  the  bushes.  It 
was  too  late.  Von  Benzinger  motioned  to  him  to 
stand  still. 

"There's  a  man  here,  Captain,"  said  the  General, 
calmly,  "who  may  have  valuable  information.  I 
will  examine  him.  You  may  get  up  that  order 
about  the  battalion  adjutants." 

With  a  "yes,  sir,"  and  a  glance  of  curiosity  at 
Harlan,  Geary  went  on  into  the  house. 

"Now,  what  do  you  know?"  asked  Von  Ben- 
zinger. 

"First,  I  know  all  about  Hamilton,"  answered 


166  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Harlan,  watching  the  effect  of  his  words.  He  was 
not  disappointed.  Von  Benzinger  became  visibly 
interested. 

"Next,  I  can  help  you  fix  him.  And,  then, 
there's  something  else  I'll  tell  you  after  you  say 
what  you'll  do  for  me." 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"When  you  join  the  Confeds  I  want  you  to  fix 
'em  so  they  won't  shoot  me  for  this  damned  re- 
ward. And  just  now,  I  want  a  paper  that'll  take 
me  through  any  bluecoat  guard  line." 

"I'll  give  you  a  pass  if  your  information's  worth 
it." 

"Then  will  you  promise  to  help  me  with  the 
Confeds?  I'll  help  you  now,  if  you  will."  Harlan 
spoke  pleadingly,  and  took  hold  of  the  General's 
arm. 

"Humph !"  Von  Benzinger  brushed  his  sleeve. 
"You  help  me!"  he  said,  contemptuously.  "I  plan 
a  thing  and  do  it  against  hell.  You  bend  either 
way  to  any  pressure.  Just  understand  the  differ- 
ence." 

"The  difference  is,  I'm  found  out  and  you  ain't — 
yet,"  said  Harlan. 

"Fools  are  found  out,  not  men  of  sense." 

"Men  of  sense  don't  tell  their  secrets  to  women 
whose  lovers  are  at  stake." 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  167 

"Except  when  women  do  not  love  their  lovers," 
retorted  Von  Benzinger,  scornfully.  "She  will  not 
betray  me  for  your  sake,  eavesdropper." 

"You  fool,  she  loves  Lieutenant  Hamilton !" 

"What!"  exclaimed  Von  Benzinger. 

"She  will  betray  you  to  save  Hamilton." 

"Impossible !" 

"Don't  I  know?"  broke  out  Harlan,  with  vehe- 
mence, "hasn't  he  stolen  her  from  me — wasn't  he 
here  this  morning  makin'  love  to  her?  Didn't  she 
drive  me  away  like  a  dog?  Didn't  she  make  you 
tell  her  all  you  knew,  so's  to  tell  him?  I  saw 
through  her  game,  but  you  didn't — oh,  no !  I'll  bet 
she's  sending  word  to  him  this  minute." 

Von  Benzinger  was  stunned.  For  a  moment  he 
was  silent,  contemplating  his  colossal  folly.  "Ham- 
ilton !"  he  groaned.  "Hamilton  !  And  I  told  her — 
oh,  fool,  fool,  fool !  Caught  with  poisoned  honey ! 
Fooled  like  a  boy  of  twenty  by  a  woman's  lies ! 
And  she — the  snake !"  He  became  speechless  with 
rage.  Never  had  his  tremendous  egotism  received 
such  a  blow,  never  had  he  been  so  duped,  and 
duped  with  so  little  effort.  She  had  simply  let  him 
talk,  let  him  take  things  for  granted.  He  had  been 
quick  to  love  her,  if  love  it  could  be  called.  Now 
he  hated  her  with  all  the  force  of  his  volcanic  na- 
ture.    His  paroxysm  of  anger  passed,  he  became 


168  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

quiet,  got  control  of  his  mind,  and  then  he  be- 
came dangerous. 

"I  will  crush  her,"  he  said.  And  truly,  though 
Virginia  had  so  easily  outwitted  him  so  far,  the 
young  girl  had  no  more  chance  against  Von  Ben- 
zinger  than  the  Cumberland  had  against  the  Merri- 
mac.  "But  first  for  Monsieur  Hamilton,"  said  the 
General.    "You  would  like  to  see  him  hang?" 

"Would  I  ?"  asked  Harlan,  in  a  tone  that  left  no 
doubt  about  it. 

Slipping  from  bush  to  bush,  nearer  and  nearer, 
came  Willis,  until  he  could  hear  comfortably  all  that 
passed  between  the  two  men. 

"What  proof  is  there,  then,  that  the  brave  Mon- 
sieur Hamilton  bribed  the  pilots?" 

"Didn't  he  hire  'em  three  months  ago  ?  Ain't  he 
a  Southerner?  Ain't  he  in  love  with  a  red-hot 
rebel?" 

"Presumptions,  not  proofs,"  said  Von  Benzinger. 
"Did  you  betray  Confederate  secrets  to  Federals?" 

"What  if  I  did?" 

"Look,  Mr.  Harlan.  You  come  to  me  from  the 
Confederate  lines.  You  are  really  a  Union  spy. 
You  say  to  me  that  Buchanan  has  a  letter  from 
Hamilton  in  which  the  Lieutenant  promises  to 
bribe  the  pilots.  You  have  seen  this  letter.  Do 
you  understand  ?" 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  169 

"Yes,"  said  Harlan,  admiringly. 

"I  vouch  for  your  past  services,  send  you  to  Gen- 
eral Wool,  who  hears  your  story,  and  informs  Cap- 
tain Marston,  the  senior  naval  officer." 

"Yes,"  said  Harlan. 

"Hamilton  is  arrested  on  the  strength  of  your 
story  and  my  endorsement  of  your  character." 

"Yes." 

"You  will  do  this?" 

"I  will,"  said  Harlan. 

"Can  you  get  from  the  fort  to  the  Merrimac  ?" 

"Yes,  but  the  sailors  may  have  seen  the  papers 
lately.    They'd  turn  me  over  for  the  reward." 

"Not  when  you  carry  a  cipher  dispatch  to  the 
ship's  captain." 

"Will  you  give  me  one  ?" 

"Yes.  In  two  parts.  Part  one  will  contain  tac- 
tical hints  for  Buchanan  concerning  the  Monitor. 
Part  two  will  be  such  a  note  as  Buchanan  might 
write  to  Hamilton  about  the  pilots.  I  will  ask  Bu- 
chanan to  copy  in  his  handwriting  this  note  and 
give  it  to. you.    Do  you  understand?" 

"Not  quite,"  said  Harlan. 

"Wool  has  letters  in  Buchanan's  handwriting," 
explained  Von  Benzinger,  patiently.  "Now,  you 
will  have  this  note  from  Buchanan  to  Hamilton, 
dated,  say,  a  week  ago,  and  proving  that  Hamilton 


170  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

had  agreed  to  bribe  the  pilots.  You  go  back  to 
General  Wool,  give  him  this  note,  and  soon  after- 
ward the  happy  lover  of  Miss  Eggleston  will  deco- 
rate the  yard  arm  of  his  ship." 

"I  see,"  said  Harlan,  enthusiastically.  "You 
certainly  have  got  brains,  General." 

"Could  you  go  to  the  Merrimac  first  and  still 
reach  the  fort  by  daylight  ?" 

"What  time  is  it  now?" 

"After  ten." 

"Let's  see — two — nine — sixteen  miles.     Easy." 

"Then  do  it.  The  cipher  to  Buchanan,  on  the 
Merrimac — my  message  and  Buchanan's  note  to 
Wool,  at  the  fort.    Is  it  clear?" 

"Clear  as  a  bell,"  answered  Harlan. 

"It  is  a  simple  plan.  A  coward  could  not  carry 
it  out,  but,  stupid  as  you  are,  you  are  no  coward. 
If  all  succeeds,  you  can  safely  go  with  me  to  Rich- 
mond. Remember,  if  I  fall,  you  fall.  Your  fate  is 
linked  with  mine.  Wait  here.  I  will  write  the 
cipher  and  the  note  to  Wool."  Von  Benzinger 
went  up  the  steps  and  into  the  house.  He  went  to 
his  room,  sat  down  and  wrote: 

Headquarters  Second  Brigade,  First  Division, 
Department  of  Virginia, 

Waverley,  Va.,  March  8,  1862. 
To  Major  General  Wool, 

Commanding  Department  of  Virginia,  Fort  Monroe: 

Sir: — I  strongly  suspect  the  Virginian,  Lieutenant  Earl 

Hamilton,  U.  S.  N.,  now  on  the  Minnesota,  of  being  in 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  171 

communication  with  Richmond  and  of  inducing  pilots  to 
ground  ships.  The  bearer  of  this  note  has  strong  con- 
firmation, which  he  will  lay  before  you.  He  has  already 
rendered  important  secret  service.  Virginia  Eggleston, 
of  Waverley  plantation,  is  probably  Hamilton's  accom- 
plice. Am  watching  her.  Please  inform  Captain  Marston. 
Respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

Hugo  von  Benzinger, 
Brigadier-General,  Commanding. 

In  cipher,  he  wrote : — 

Flag  Officer  Franklin  Buchanan, 
Commanding  Merrimac. 
Monitor  in  Roads  and  will  fight  you  tomorrow.     Board 
her,  lash  her,  cover  turrets  with  tarpaulins,  throw  in  hand- 
grenades.  Von  B. 

Give  to  bearer  a  copy,  in  your  handwriting,  of  the  fol- 
lowing note: 

March  3,  1862. 
Lieutenant  E.  H., 

On  Minnesota. 
Your    proposal    concerning   pilots    is    approved.      Will 
count  on  you.    Merrimac  will  attack  on  seventh  or  eighth. 
Franklin  Buchanan,  C.  S.  N. 

The  note  from  Buchanan  to  Hamilton  was  writ- 
ten, not  in  cipher,  but  in  a  disguised  hand.  If  it 
fell,  accidentally,  into  Federal  hands,  it  would  con- 
vict, not  Von  Benzinger,  but  Hamilton. 

As  Von  Benzinger  finished  writing  the  dis- 
patches, his  eye  fell  on  his  pistol.     Having  just  felt 


172  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  need  of  it,  and  realizing  that  he  was  playing  a 
desperate  game  that  night,  he  put  it  on. 

Willis,  lying  in  the  shrubbery,  also  felt  the  need 
of  a  pistol,  and  remembered  the  two  he  had  seen 
lying  in  their  case  on  the  mantel  in  the  dining-room. 
He  moved  away,  as  he  had  come,  unseen  by  Harlan. 
Passing  around  the  house,  he  stepped  through  the 
dining-room  window,  and,  feeling  in  the  dark, 
found  one  of  the  ivory-mounted  pistols  still  lying  in 
its  case.  The  other  was  gone.  He  stepped  to  the 
light  of  the  window,  found  the  pistol  loaded,  and 
put  it  carefully  into  his  pocket.  "The  key  to  this 
situation,"  he  reflected,  "is  Von  Benzinger's  cipher 
to  the  Merrimac.  I  must  have  it.  I  wonder  if  it's 
written  yet."  Dangerous  as  it  would  be,  he  deter- 
mined to  go  to  Von  Benzinger  at  his  desk,  cover 
him  with  his  pistol,  and  demand  the  cipher.  He 
tiptoed  through  the  dark  dining-room,  opened  the 
door  slightly,  and  looked  across  the  hall  to  Von 
Benzinger's  room.  The  light  was  still  burning,  but 
the  General  had  finished  writing  and  was  gone. 
"He's  practiced  that  cipher,"  thought  Willis,  "I 
wonder  if  it's  a  hard  one  to  read  when  you  already 
know  what's  in  it?  But,  first  catch  your  cipher." 
He  stepped  through  the  window,  and  heard  the 
sentry's  startling  "Halt !"  "That's  Harlan  going 
out,"  he  thought.     Behind  the  house  he  saw  Seth 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  173 

slipping  off  toward  the  stable.  Willis  walked  to  the 
front  of  the  house,  approached  the  gate,  was  chal- 
lenged and  passed.  Immediately  afterward  Von 
Benzinger  came  from  the  house  and  said  something 
to  the  sentry.  Willis  was  just  in  time  to  avoid  being 
caught  in  the  trap  of  the  guard-line.  Being  through 
it,  he  walked  briskly  down  the  road  to  Newport — 
after  Harlan. 

It  was  then  that  Virginia,  tortured  with  terrible 
surmises,  heard  Von  Benzinger  repeat  to  Geary 
his  order  to  the  guard — an  order  which  made  pris- 
oner every  soul  of  the  Waverley  household.  The 
fatal  words,  "arrest  and  search  all  those  who  try  to 
pass,"  were  yet  ringing  in  her  ears,  when,  through 
the  open  window  of  her  room,  she  heard  Seth's 
horse  trot  past  the  house.  He  must  not  reach  the 
sentry  at  the  gate.  Down  the  stairs  she  darted, 
trying  to  make  no  noise  which  would  attract  and 
draw  after  her  the  dreadful  man  whose  web  was 
closing  round  her.  Through  the  door  she  sped, 
and  into  the  night. 

"Seth,  Seth !"  she  called,  but  Seth  was  already 
so  near  the  sentry  that  she  dared  not  call  out  loud, 
and  her  voice  was  drowned  in  the  sound  of  horse's 
hoofs.  The  terrible  "Halt!"  rang  out;  the  poor 
old  darky  stumbled  pitifully  through  his  well-re- 
hearsed countersign — in  vain.     He  was  ruthlessly 


174  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

pulled  from  his  horse ;  the  sentry  called  the  corporal 
of  the  guard ;  the  corporal  came.  He  found  and 
roughly  took  the  precious  note,  and  led  old  Seth 
away — whimpering — pleading  to  ears  that  were 
deaf  to  all  but  "orders."  Virginia  did  not  plead  nor 
stir.  She  knew  too  well  how  vain  it  was,  how  im- 
possible to  sway  these  men  from  duty.  She  realized, 
as  the  corporal  took  the  note,  that  no  power  or  act 
or  word  of  hers  could  keep  it  from  Von  Benzinger. 
However  much  he  already  knew,  he  would  soon 
know  all — he  would  know  she  was  his  bitterest 
enemy — alone — a  prisoner — in  his  power.  Utter 
despair  for  her  own  fate  overpowered  her.  The  one 
hope  was  that  Willis  had  got  through  the  lines  and 
would  do  something  to  save  Earl.  The  corporal 
had  taken  Seth  to  the  guard  tent,  near  the  stable; 
the  sentry  at  the  gate  walked  up  and  down  his  post 
outside  the  wall.  Desolate,  helpless,  Virginia  stood 
outside  her  house,  within  the  walls  of  which  a  pow- 
erful enemy  was  plotting  her  destruction.  Why 
didn't  Cora  come  back?  Would  the  sentry  let  her 
in? 

From  the  direction  of  the  road  to  Newport, 
startling  Virginia's  shaken  nerves,  rang  out  two  pis- 
tol shots  in  quick  succession.  What  did  they  mean 
— those  shots?  She  waited,  listening.  The  sentry 
stopped.     No  sound — nothing.     Yes,  there  was  a 


THE  FATAL  SHOT.  '  175 

man  running — rurjning  this  way — running  heavily. 
In  her  anxiety  to  see  who  it  was,  Virginia,  forget- 
ting herself  and  her  fear  lest  Von  Benzinger  should 
see  her,  took  a  step  toward  the  gate.  The  light 
from  the  hall  lamp  fell  full  upon  her.  The  runner 
neared  the  gate. 

"Halt!"  cried  the  sentry,  but  the  man  kept  on. 
He  ran  like  a  man  in  his  sleep — fleeing  from  some 
unknown  terror.  The  swing  of  his  elbows  turned 
his  whole  body  from  side  to  side. 

"Halt,  or  I  fire !"  shouted  the  sentry. 

Past  the  sentry,  through  the  gate,  straight  up 
the  path  toward  her,  came  the  man  with  that  terri- 
ble, automatic  trot.  The  sentry  leveled  his  musket, 
but  did  not  fire,  for  fear  of  striking  the  girl.  Vir- 
ginia stood  fascinated.  The  light  fell  on  the  man's 
white  face — the  eyes  fixed  and  staring — blood 
pouring  from  his  mouth.  She  heard  someone  be- 
hind her,  but  could  not  turn.  Was  this  vision  real, 
or  a  dream?  She  heard  a  pistol  shot,  the  horrid, 
running  Thing  lurched  forward  and  fell  in  the 
gravel,  clutching  sightlessly  at  her  skirt.  She  saw 
her  pistol  in  its  hand,  she  saw  the  hand  relax  and 
the  pistol  fall  at  her  feet.  She  saw  Von  Benzinger 
stoop  over  the  fallen  man  and  turn  him  on  his  back. 
The  man  groaned,  his  rigid  limbs  relaxed.  Horri- 
ble !    It  was  Lafe  Harlan.    Estelle  came  from  some- 


176  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

where,  and  with  one  wild  look  knelt  beside  the  man 
she  loved,  wiping  the  blood  from  his  mouth.  Von 
Benzinger  pushed  her  aside  and  felt  in  Harlan's 
pockets. 

"Where  are  those  dispatches?"  he  demanded. 
Others  were  looking  on,  now — Virginia  did  not 
know  who  they  were.  "Who  has  done  this  ?  Who 
shot  you?"  went  on  Von  Benzinger,  shaking  the 
body.  The  man  fought  for  breath,  his  body  stif- 
fened again,  through  the  gurgle  in  his  throat  came 
the  one  word,  "Virginia!"  The  body  relaxed  in 
death — there  was  an  instant  of  unbroken  silence — 
the  eyes  of  the  group  about  Virginia  turned  in  con- 
sternation from  the  dead  man  to  her. 

General  von  Benzinger  rose  from  his  position 
beside  the  body.  His  eyes  fell  on  Virginia's  pistol 
lying  at  her  feet.  He  picked  it  up,  looked  at  it, 
drew  himself  up. 

"Virginia  Eggleston,"  he  said,  "you  will  be  tried 
by  courtmartial  as  a  Confederate  spy,  and  for  the 
murder  of  the  Union  messenger — Lafe  Harlan !" 


'  Virginia  Eggleston."  he  said.  "  you  will  be  tried  by  courtmartial  as  a 
Confederate  spy." 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  177 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE  COURTMARTIAL. 

Lafe  Harlan  was  dead.  Major  Cuthbertson,  the 
brigade  surgeon,  had  said  so,  officially.  When  he 
had  finished  his  report,  he  laid  before  General  von 
Benzinger,  together  with  the  pistol  found  at  Vir- 
ginia's feet,  a  small  package  sealed  with  red  seal- 
ing wax.  Across  the  face  of  this  package  was  writ- 
ten, "Bullet  taken  from  the  body  of  Lafe  Harlan," 
together  with  the  name  of  the  surgeon.  Captain 
Geary  and  Lieutenant  Edwards  had  endorsed  it  as 
witnesses. 

"Does  this  bullet  fit  the  pistol?"  inquired  the 
General,  a  bright  spot  burning  in  each  cheek,  de- 
spite his  masterful  effort  to  appear  unconcerned. 

"Exactly,"  replied  the  surgeon.  "The  pistol  is 
of  a  foreign  make,  and  bullets  to  fit  it  must  be  run 
in  a  pecuHar  mould.  The  owner  of  the  weapon 
should  have  such  an  instrument." 


178  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Have  you  said  as  much  in  your  report?" 

"Yes." 

"The  moulds  might  be  something  after  the  fash- 
ion of  these,  I  suppose?"  said  the  General,  with- 
drawing from  a  paper  a  small  pair  of  steel  bullet 
moulds,  exquisitely  wrought,  and  handing  them  to 
the  surgeon. 

"The  bullet  was  run  in  this  mould,"  said  the  sur- 
geon, after  a  moment's  examination.  "I  am  sure 
of  it.  The  caliber  is  an  odd  one,  as  you  can  see,  and 
this  small  thread  running  about  the  center  is  clearly 
marked  in  the  bullet  I  have  placed  in  evidence." 

"Thank  you,"  said  General  von  Benzinger,  plac- 
ing the  moulds  by  the  side  of  the  pistol.  "You  will 
find  cigars  in  the  adjoining  room.  I  will  see  you 
there  presently." 

When  he  was  again  alone,  General  von  Ben- 
zinger took  up  a  pen,  and,  bending  over  the  table, 
began  writing  slowly  and  with  great  care,  seeming 
to  weigh  each  word  before  committing  it  to  paper. 
He  was  compiling  the  charges,  and  his  fate  de- 
pended, in  a  great  measure,  on  the  impression 
those  charges  should  make.  It  was  necessary  that 
they  should  be  completed  at  once,  so  that  the  find- 
ings might  reach  General  Wool  in  time  to  have 
Hamilton  taken  from  the  Monitor  before  her  duel 
with  the  Merrimac — the  duel  sure  to  begin  with 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  179 

the  morning.  The  summons  for  officers  to  sit  on 
the  courtmartial  had  already  been  prepared,  and 
Edwards  was  ordered  to  have  them  served  with  all 
possible  dispatch. 

Out  in  the  yard,  at  the  orderlies'  quarters,  there 
were  hurried  preparations  and  mounting  in  hot 
haste,  not  without  much  grumbling  and  many  good, 
round  oaths  by  the  men  at  having  to  do  extra  duty. 
Half  an  hour  later,  orderlies  were  spurring  about 
among  the  tents  of  the  camps  on  the  plain  below, 
stumbling  over  invisible  tent  ropes,  and  answering 
challenges  that  came  with  startling  suddenness 
from  shadowy  places.  When  the  officer  for  whom 
one  of  them  was  searching  was  finally  found,  he 
sat  up  on  his  blanket,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  de- 
manded, "What  it  was  all  about?"  But  when  he 
had  received  the  document  the  orderly  presented, 
and  read  it,  either  in  the  moonlight  or  by  the  faint 
gleam  of  a  tallow  held  dangerously  near  his  nose 
by  his  yawning  "striker,"  he  hurriedly  returned  his 
compliments  to  the  General,  with  the  information 
that  he  would  report  at  once.  Then  he  dressed 
himself  with  as  much  care  and  dignity  as  a  crowded 
tent  and  a  limited  field  equipment  allowed.  After- 
ward, he  trotted  away  toward  Waverley,  his  or- 
derly, with  more  or  less  jerking  of  reins  and  spur- 

12 


180  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ring  of  heels,  holding  his  proper  distance  in  the 
rear. 

While  these  hurried  preparations  for  the  trial 
were  going  forward,  Estelle  sat  in  a  dark  corner 
of  one  of  the  whitewashed  negro  cabins,  clutching 
her  knees  with  her  hands,  shivering,  moaning  and 
muttering  self-reproaches,  unintelligible  to  the 
slaves  standing  silently  about,  who  attributed  her 
startled  looks  and  broken  sentences  to  grief  for  her 
young  mistress.  They  were  ignorant  of  the  part 
she  had  contributed  to  the  tragedy.  Had  they 
known,  they  would  not  have  understood.  She  did 
not  understand  it  all  herself.  It  was  like  some 
awful  nightmare  in  which  she  struggled,  but  from 
which  she  could  not  awake.  From  the  moment 
Harlan  had  left  her  in  the  woods,  his  mocking  laugh 
ringing  in  her  ears,  until  she  knelt  beside  his 
bleeding  body  upon  the  lawn  at  Waverley,  time 
was  a  blank  to  her.  There  she  had  heard  Virginia 
accused  of  his  murder,  and  seen  her  led  away,  but, 
even  to  her  dulled  perceptions,  her  mistress  seemed 
an  angel  about  whom  the  garment  of  innocence  fell 
like  a  mantle  of  light.  Cowering  there  on  the 
ground,  she  had  seen  the  big  surgeon  stride  into 
the  yard,  bend  over  the  body  of  the  fallen  man, 
place  his  hand  over  his  heart,  lift  the  lids  from  the 
dull,  staring  eyes,  and  say — "the  man  is  dead."    A 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  181 

new  horror  seized  her  at  the  words,  and,  springing 
up,  she  had  fled  to  the  negro  quarters,  and,  going 
in  at  the  first  open  door,  had  crouched  there  Hke  a 
hunted  animal  wounded  to  the  death. 

The  other  slaves  were  almost  as  wild  with  grief 
as  Estelle.  Everywhere  there  was  wailing  and 
tears,  for  Virginia  was  to  them  a  spirit  of  goodness, 
and  the  awful  charge  against  her  seemed  to  these 
superstitious  creatures  the  work  of  some  demon 
whose  power  was  not  to  be  overcome  by  anything 
less  than  the  supernatural.  Not  one  of  these  sim- 
ple, timid  folk  but  would  have  gone  to  any  lengths 
to  have  saved  their  young  mistress  one  pang  of 
pain,  but  against  this  hidden  "Spirit  of  Evil"  they 
dared  not  even  complain.  And  so  they  drew  close 
together  in  their  cabins,  moaning  and  wringing 
their  hands — helpless  and  afraid. 

Up  on  the  hill,  in  the  big  dining-room  that  had 
been  prepared  for  the  courtmartial,  the  officers 
were  already  beginning  to  gather.  A  captain  and 
two  lieutenants,  forming  a  group  near  the  window 
that  opened  on  the  gallery,  conversed  about  the 
tragedy  in  low  tones.  A  burly  man,  with  fierce 
mustache  and  bristling  brows,  who  wore  the  insig- 
nia of  a  major  on  his  shoulder  straps,  stood  alone 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  his  back  to  the  side- 
board.    In  his  hand  he  held  a  formidable-looking 


132  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

document,  which  he  was  scanning  with  great  care. 
He  was  the  Judge  Advocate,  who  was  to  represent 
the  Government.  The  paper  he  was  reading  con- 
tained the  charges  against  Virginia,  compiled  by 
General  von  Benzinger. 

Before  the  house,  orderHes  walked  back  and  forth 
along  the  drive,  each  leading  two  horses,  his  own 
and  his  comm.ander's.  When  they  passed  each 
other,  as  they  often  did  in  their  travel  back  and 
forth,  they  exchanged  comments  on  the  strange 
story,  expressing  opinions  in  short,  jerky  sentences 
barren  of  adjectives — a  diction  pecuHar  to  the  rank 
and  file  of  the  American  army.  Other  officers  came 
at  intervals,  and  the  steady  beat  of  steel-shod  hoofs 
on  the  shell  road  seemed  to  strike  a  minor  chord 
in  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  night.  Along  the  dis- 
tant shore  the  waves  broke  with  a  mufHed  sound 
that  drifted  inland  like  the  troubled  throbbings  of  a 
giant  heart.  And  in  a  guarded  room  of  the  old, 
rambling,  ivy-mantled  house,  Virginia  sat  alone, 
waiting  to  be  summoned  before  the  tribunal  which 
held  in  its  hand— her  life. 

Soon  after  midnight  the  guard  entered  the  pris- 
oner's room  and  told  her  she  was  to  go  with  them 
to  the  courtroom.  As  she  passed  along  the  hall. 
Black  Mammie,  kneeling  near  the  door  of  her 
chamber,  crept    forward  with  clasped    hands  and 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  183 

streaming  eyes,  begging  the  guards  to  be  merciful 
to  her  mistress. 

''Kill  ole  Brack  Mammie,  Marse  Sojer,  but  don' 
fo'  de  Lawd  sake  hu't  ma  honey  chile — sweetes' 
chile  yo'  ole  Brack  Mammie  evah  nussed,  dat  yo'  is 
honey,  de  sweetes'  an'  de  bes' !  Fo'  Lawd  sake, 
Marse  Sojer,  don'  take  away  ma  po'  honey  chile." 

Virginia  bent  down  and  twined  her  arm  tenderly 
about  the  neck  of  the  black  woman. 

"Don't  worry,  Mammie,"  she  said.  "They  will 
not  harm  me.  Go  to  bed  now,  and  think  no  more 
about  it.    Everything  will  be  right  in  the  morning." 

"Agin'  orders.  Miss,"  said  one  of  the  guards. 
"You're  not  to  talk  to  anyone  until  after  the  trial. 
Sorry,  Miss,  but  it's  orders." 

"I  understand,"  said  Virginia,  rising,  "and  I'll 
make  you  as  little  trouble  as  possible.  Good  night, 
Mammie."  She  bent  to  kiss  the  tear-wet  cheek  of 
the  nurse.    "I  am  ready." 

"Ma  po'  honey  chile,"  moaned  the  negress,  as 
Virginia  moved  away,  between  two  heavily  tramp- 
ing guards.  "W'y  don'  yo'  take  her  ole  Brack 
Mammie,  Marse  Sojer?  She  done  ready  fo'  ter  die, 
on'y  don'  ha'ni  huh,  honey,  Marse  Sojer ;  don'  ha'm 
huh  Mammie's  honey  chile!" 

"Don't  Mammie!"  cried  Virginia,  halting  on  the 
landing,  and  smiling  bravely.    "You  hurt  me.     Go 


184  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

to  bed  and  come  to  me  early  in  the  morning.  The 
trouble  will  be  over  then." 

"Hurry  up  there,  men !"  called  a  sergeant  from 
the  hall  below.    "They're  waitin'  for  ye." 

When  Virginia  entered  the  dining-room,  the  offi- 
cers were  seated  about  the  table,  six  on  each  side. 
Two  chairs,  one  at  either  end  of  the  table,  were  un- 
occupied. As  she  came  in,  the  men  got  up,  rather 
awkwardly,  and,  removing  their  hats,  stood  until 
she  had  been  conducted  to  the  lower  end  of  the 
room  and  was  seated  in  a  chair  placed  for  her  by  a 
Lieutenant  Harper,  who  was  acting  as  recorder. 
A  moment  later  the  Judge  Advocate  came  in  and 
took  a  seat  near  Virginia,  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
table.  He  was  followed  by  a  small  man  with  red, 
bushy  hair,  standing  straight  on  his  head,  a  strag- 
gling, close-clipped,  red  beard,  small,  piercing, 
brown  eyes,  and  a  quick,  nervous  manner.  The 
others  arose  and  saluted,  as  he  took  the  remaining 
vacant  chair  at  the  head  of  the  table.  The  officer 
nearest  him  addressed  him  as  Mr.  President,  and 
spoke  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone,  glancing  in  the  di- 
rection of  Virginia.  The  President  shook  his  head 
slowly  two  or  three  times,  fired  a  piercing  look  at 
the  prisoner,  and  sat  down.  Edwards  began  to 
straighten  out  the  papers  before  him.  A  sallow, 
light-haired    man    came    and    stood    by    Virginia's 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  185 

chair,  and  she  was  told  that  he  was  to  act  as  her 
attorney. 

Virginia  tried  to  keep  all  these  things  in  her 
mind,  to  feel  that  all  this  precision  and  care  meant 
life  or  death  to  her,  but  her  thoughts  ran  away  from 
her  continually  and  lingered  over  the  moonlit 
waters  of  Hampton  Roads,  and  about  the  Minne- 
sota, and  the  new  Monitor  that  Earl  Hamilton  was 
to  pilot  tomorrow  in  the  duel  between  it  and  that 
awful  force — the  Merrimac.  Was  he  thinking  of 
her?  Would  he  come  unhurt  from  tomorrow's 
struggle,  as  he  did  from  that  of  yesterday?  Then 
she  remembered  Von  Benzinger's  words,  "he  must 
be  stopped,"  and  a  mist  swam  before  her  eyes,  and 
a  great  fear  took  possession  of  her — a  fear  that 
Von  Benzinger  might  know  of  her  scene  with  Wil- 
lis and  have  had  him,  too,  arrested.  If  that  were 
so,  the  blow  would  fall  upon  Hamilton  without 
warning,  and,  Willis  had  said,  a  man  accused  of 
such  a  crime  would  have  no  chance  to  defend  him- 
self. She  must  go  herself  and  warn  him.  Bay  Nel- 
lie would  carry  her  safely  to  the  water,  and  then — 

"Virginia  Eggleston  1" 

The  name  thundered  in  her  ears  like  the  roar  of 
a  thousand  guns.  Why  did  the  girl  not  answer? 
It  was  best  she  should  do  nothing  to  offend  these 
men.     But  that  was  her  own  name.     Certainly,  she 


186  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

would  stand  up  and  answer  any  questions  they 
might  ask  her.  She  was  ignorant  of  mihtary  mat- 
ters. She  had  never  heard  of  a  courtmartial  before 
tonight. 

"Virginia  Eggleston,  you  are  charged  with  plot- 
ting to  destroy  the  Union  fleet  and  with  the  murder 
of  Lafe  Harlan,  a  Union  messenger.  Are  you 
guilty  or  not  guilty?" 

She  knew  that  it  was  the  Judge  Advocate  speak- 
ing, and  that  there  were  not  two  Virginias,  and  yet 
she  waited  and  listened  for  the  other  one  to  reply. 
Why  was  not  the  answer  forthcoming?  There  was 
nothing  to  fear,  nothing  to  conceal,  the  girl  was 
innocent.  And  then  came  the  realization  that  some- 
how she  must  reply  for  this  other  Virginia  who  was 
on  trial  for  her  life. 

"Do  you  refuse  to  answer?"  How  cold  and  level 
the  tones  of  that  voice.  Oh,  no,  she  did  not  refuse 
to  answer.  She  did  not  hear  you.  I  will  answer  for 
her,  sir.  She  is  not  guilty.  There  has  been  a  terri- 
ble mistake  somewhere.  General  von  Benzinger  is 
guilty,  but  that  you  all  know  better  than  I  can  tell 
you;  but  Virginia,  she  is  just  a  young  girl  who 
loves  the  blue  skies,  and  the  fields,  the  river,  the 
slaves.  Bay  Nellie,  and — and  Hamilton.  Yes,  sure- 
ly, she  loves  Lieutenant  Hamilton,  although  she 
cannot  tell  you  why,  since  he  is  fighting  against  her 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  187 

country.  He  is  out  there  now  preparing  to  guide 
this  new  monster  that  came  suddenly  out  of  the 
smoke  and  flame  last  night,  to  try  results  with  that 
other  and  greater  monster  that  had  roared  about 
the  Roads  all  yesterday. 

"Does  the  prisoner  object  to  the  introduction  of 
General  von  Benzinger's  statement  of  the  case  and 
the  reasons  which  led  him  to  make  the  arrest  ?"  It 
was  the  same  hard,  cold  voice,  the  same  level  tone, 
every  word  spoken  distinctly,  with  a  little  pause 
after  each.  It  sounded  like  the  dropping  of  peb- 
bles, one  after  another,  into  a  wooden  bowl.  But 
the  prisoner  must  answer.  If  they  would  be  pa- 
tient a  moment  she  would  urge  Virginia — but,  was 
she  not  herself  Virginia?  No,  she  had  no  objec- 
tions. He  could  read  on.  If  only  they  would  not 
disturb  her.  She  wished  to  think  of  the  morrow, 
of  Earl,  of  the  time  when  the  war  would  be  over, 
and  they  could  sit  once  more  together  on  the  vine- 
wreathed  gallery  at  Waverley. 

The  dropping  of  the  pebbles  into  the  bowl  echoed 
her  thoughts,  or,  rather,  mingled  with  them  and 
became  a  part  of  them.  Now  they  were  telling  how 
she  had  invited  Hamilton  to  visit  her  in  the  morn- 
ing, of  their  meeting  in  the  garden,  of  her  passion- 
ate appeal  to  him  to  abandon  the  ship,  flee  from 
the  danger,  and  come  back  to  the  South,  and  loy- 


188  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

alty,  and  her.  Now  they  were  repeating  the  words 
of  her  note  to  him  after  the  battle,  and  his  message 
of  assurance  that  he  was  safe.  Then  it  was  the 
letter  that  she  had  written  to  warn  him  of  Von 
Benzinger's  charges.  What  would  the  other  Vir- 
ginia think  of  this  ?  how  would  she  account  for  it  ? 
Was  Von  Benzinger  omnipotent,  that  he  could  thus 
read  the  secrets  of  the  soul?  The  pebbles  were 
dropping  one  by  one,  and  each  one  was  a  word  of 
her  letter.  "Earl.  You  are  suspected  of  having 
bribed  the  pilots  who  ran  the  ships  aground.  Gen- 
eral von  Benzinger  is  sending  word  to  General 
Wool,  so  that  you  may  not  be  allowed  to  pilot  the 
Monitor.  I  could  not,  even  to  save  your  life,  be- 
tray secrets  of  the  Confederacy,  but  Von  Benzinger 
is  a  traitor.  Be  warned — save  yourself  and  love — 
Virginia."  What  was  strange  in  this  letter  that 
the  men  around  the  board  should  smile  knowingly 
and  nod  their  heads  at  one  another?  Was  it  so 
wicked  to  send  a  warning  to  an  old  friend  whom  a 
traitor  was  plotting  to  destroy?  The  reference  to 
General  von  Benzinger  seemed  to  strike  on  her 
ear  curiously.  Why  should  it  appear  to  have  a 
double  meaning,  even  to  her?  Surely  there  was 
nothing  of  this  in  her  mind  when  she  wrote  it.  Yet 
the  men  smiled  when  it  was  read  and  nodded  sig- 
nificantly. 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  189 

Suddenly  the  story  the  pebbles  were  telling 
changed.  They  were  telling  of  Harlan,  her  meet- 
ings with  him,  her  denunciation  of  him,  the  pistol 
shots,  his  death,  his  dying  cry  of  "Virginia !"  Back 
and  forth  along  the  chain,  that  link  by  link  had 
been  woven  of  her  acts  and  words,  her  dazed  mind 
wandered,  searching  in  vain  for  the  flaw  that  must 
be  there.  By  and  by  she.  began  to  wonder  if  the 
Virginia  who  was  on  trial  was  not,  after  all,  guilty. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise?  The  dropping  of  the 
pebbles  ceased,  and  someone  was  holding  up  a  pis- 
tol, and  asking  if  it  were  not  hers,  and  when  she 
had  last  seen  it?  Then  the  dropping  continued, 
telling  now  of  a  surgeon,  and  wounds,  and  a  bullet. 
The  pebbles  were  larger  now,  and  the  bowl  must 
soon  be  filled. 

Then  the  wooden  bowl  became  suddenly  as  big 
as  half  the  world,  and  there  were  great  waves  of 
water  dashing  over  the  pebbles,  which  were  bould- 
ers now.  And  far  out  on  the  storm-tossed  sea, 
leagues  and  leagues  from  shore,  a  tiny  boat  was 
pitching  and  plunging  here  and  there.  There  was 
a  woman  in  the  boat.  It  was  the  prisoner,  and  she 
was  crying  for  help.  She  stretched  out  her  arms  in 
a  vain  attempt  at  rescue.  A  great  wave  lifted  high 
in  the  air  and  rushed  upon  the  boat ;  there  was  a 
sudden  roar  as  if  the  heavens  had  fallen,  and  the 


190  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

waters  swept  over  everything,  and  blotted  out  the 
world. 

An  hour  before  the  dawn,  the  officers  rode  down 
the  shell  road  from  Waverley  to  their  respective 
commands.  The  trial  was  over,  the  evidence  had 
been  summed  up,  the  Judge  Advocate  had  made 
his  cold,  clear,  unprejudiced  statement  of  the  facts, 
and  the  verdict  had  been  signed  and  placed  in  the 
hands  of  General  von  Benzinger. 

The  Judge  Advocate  had  gone,  and  Von  Ben- 
zinger stood  with  the  findings  of  the  courtmartial 
in  his  hand.  He  turned  the  key  in  the  door,  and, 
sitting  down  at  the  table  near  the  window,  opened 
the  document.  Man  of  steel  as  he  had  proven  him- 
self to  be,  his  fingers  trembled  and  his  hand  shook 
as  he  unfolded  the  closely  written  sheets.  All  night 
he  had  not  closed  his  eyes,  and  the  strain  was  be- 
ginning to  tell. 

"Of  the  first  specification,  guilty,"  he  read,  and 
his  eyes,  dull  with  long  watching,  burned  anew. 

"Of  the  second  specification,  guilty." 

"Of  the  third  specification,  guilty." 

"Of  the  fourth  specification,  guilty." 

"Of  the  fifth  specification,  guilty." 

"Of  the  charge — guilty." 

The  red  spots  were  burning  in  his  cheeks  like  two 


THE  COURTMARTIAL.  191 

tiny  suns.  He  folded  the  papers  carefully.  "It  yet 
lacks  the  signature  of  General  Wool,"  he  whispered. 
He  shut  the  fatal  document  in  his  two  hands,  held  it 
down  upon  the  table  and  looked  at  it  steadily.  Lit- 
tle by  little  his  head  dropped  forward.  At  last  his 
forehead  rested  upon  the  paper. 

From  the  Confederate  lines  a  signal  rocket  shot 
straight  into  the  darkened  sky.  A  wave  of  red  light 
flashed  across  the  window  and  lit  up  the  room.  It 
fell  upon  the  sleeping  man,  and  his  white  hair  took 
on  a  crimson  hue,  as  though  it  had  been  dipped  in 
blood. 


192  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE    MONITOR. 

Miles  and  miles  to  the  northward,  that  Saturday 
afternoon,  the  waveworn  crew  of  the  Monitor,  pass- 
ing out  of  the  storm  that  threatened  their  destruc- 
tion, had  heard  the  sound  of  distant  cannon.  Night 
fell,  and  they  saw  before  them  the  "crimson  cloud 
on  Hampton  Roads"  which  the  Merrimac  had 
made.  Anchoring  near  the  fort,  they  learned  the 
details  of  the  day's  disaster.  Their  commander, 
Worden,  decided  that  on  the  morrow  the  place  for 
his  strange,  new  craft  was  Hampton  Roads,  not 
Washington.  Steaming  over  to  the  Minnesota,  the 
Monitor  dropped  anchor  under  the  frigate's  lofty 
counter  and  waited  for  the  morning  and  the  Merri- 
mac. No  man  of  that  crew  slept  that  night.  Since 
they  left  New  York,  three  days  before,  no  man  had 
slept.  They  had  been  fighting  the  sea ;  now  they 
repaired  the  damage  of  that  fight,  and  prepared  for 
battle  with  the  deadliest  vessel  that  ever  floated. 


THE  MONITOR.  193 

To  the  onlookers,  it  was  laughable  to  see  this  little 
vessel — this  "cheese  box  on  a  plank" — assume  the 
role  of  guardian  of  the  towering  frigate.  The  crew 
of  the  Minnesota  had  no  hope  that  the  new  arrival 
could  resist  the  destroyer  of  the  Cumberland  and 
Congress.  But  they  admired  the  little  fellow's 
pluck.  The  officers  and  men  of  the  Monitor  knew 
little  more  about  their  vessel's  fighting  qualities 
than  the  sailors  of  the  Minnesota.  But  they  knew 
that  they  alone — they  and  their  cheese  box — stood 
between  the  Union  and  disaster.  And,  like  old 
Seth,  they  meant  "to  do  their  endeavorest." 

So,  all  night,  beneath  the  iron  deck  of  the  Moni- 
tor, steam  pumps  were  forcing  out  the  sea-water 
and  sucking  in  the  air.  Up  through  the  open 
hatches  came  many  muffled  sounds — the  slow  throb 
of  engines,  the  voices  of  petty  officers  giving  orders, 
the  metallic  scrape  of  shovels  in  the  bunkers,  and 
the  rattling  fall  of  coal,  the  clang  of  furnace  doors, 
the  tramp  of  feet,  the  hoisting  of  powder  and  eleven- 
inch  shot  into  the  turret,  the  splash  of  wet  ashes 
passed  up  from  below  and  thrown  overboard. 

Unconscious  of  the  tragedy  which  had  come  at 
Waverley,  and  of  the  greater  tragedy  which  was 
coming,  unconscious  of  the  accusation  hanging 
over  him,  and  of  the  bitter  battle  Virginia  was  fight- 
ing for  his  sake,  Earl  Hamilton  was  leaning  over 


194  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  rail  of  the  Minnesota,  watching  the  arrival  of 
the  Monitor.  That  day  had  given  him  an  instant 
of  perfect  happiness,  cut  short  with  the  acute  pain 
of  parting;  that  day  had  brought  disaster  to  the 
country  which  he  loved  in  proportion  to  the  sacri- 
fices he  had  made  for  it. 

The  danger  to  himself  in  tomorrow's  battle  he 
did  not  realize,  because,  sailor-fashion,  he  did  not 
think  of  it.  The  danger  to  the  Union  cause,  he 
thought  of  much  and  fully  realized.  So,  when  the 
dark  turret  of  the  new  Ericsson  battery  appeared, 
half  a  mile  away,  moving  over  the  waves  in  the  light 
of  the  great  burning,  he  scanned  it  eagerly.  He 
knew  the  tremendous  weight  of  responsibility 
which  now  rested  upon  the  queer  little  ironclad. 
Could  she  bear  it?  Half  an  hour  after  she  an- 
chored alongside  his  ship,  he  received  orders  from 
Captain  Marston  detailing  him  as  pilot  of  the  new 
craft  in  the  battle  expected  next  morning.  It  was 
hardly  an  officer's  duty,  but  Hamilton  knew  that, 
after  the  treachery  of  that  day,  the  piloting  was  of 
supreme  importance.  He  had  the  gig  lowered, 
and  quickly  set  foot  on  the  low  freeboard  of  the 
Monitor.  There  were  no  masts,  no  sails,  no  bul- 
warks, no  davits,  no  boats— nothing  but  a  platform 
on  the  sea,  a  platform  which  here,  in  this  sheltered 
roadstead,  was  scarce  eighteen  inches  above  the 


THE  MONITOR.  195 

water-line.  Hamilton  saw  that  the  whole  deck 
would  be  submerged  in  the  rush  of  the  deep-sea 
waves. 

In  the  center  of  the  platform  was  the  circular  iron 
turret,  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  whose  top  he  could 
almost  touch  with  his  finger  tips.  Besides  the  tur- 
ret, there  was  only  the  pilot-house,  rising  to  the 
height  of  his  chest,  the  smokestack,  of  which  the 
top  was  level  with  his  eyes,  the  flagstafTs  on  the 
bow  and  stern,  and  the  standing  pipes  through 
which  the  air  was  drawn  down  to  the  furnaces,  and 
to  the  crew  who  worked,  and  ate,  and  slept  below 
the  water  line.  It  was  like  going  down  into  a  mine 
— quarters,  magazine,  engine-room,  cockpit,  ward- 
room, knew  no  light  but  that  of  lamp  and  lantern. 
Worden  and  his  officers  were  working  indefatigably 
to  get  the  floating  battery  in  shape  for  battle,  and 
Hamilton,  after  reporting  to  the  commanding  offi- 
cer, examined  by  himself  everything  from  anchor- 
well  to  propeller.  Then  he  went  back  to  the  Min- 
nesota and  spent  the  night  getting  information 
about  the  Merrimac,  comparing  the  two  antagonists 
in  his  mind,  weighing  their  chances,  inventing 
schemes  of  attack  and  defense.  Little  did  he  think 
as  he  worked  and  schemed,  that,  off  there  on  the 
dear  old  hill,  at  Waverley,  a  document  was  grow- 
ing, page  by  page — a  document  which  was  officially 

13 


196  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

making  the  woman  he  loved  a  spy  and  murderess, 
and  making  Hamilton  himself  a  traitor  to  the 
North. 

The  light  from  the  Congress  ceased  after  the  ex- 
plosion, the  moon  traversed  the  sky  and  set,  and  in 
the  black,  still  hour  before  the  dawn,  Hamilton 
slept.    There  were  yet  three  hours  before  the  fight. 

In  the  east,  intensifying  the  blackness  of  the 
earth,  appeared  a  streak  of  gray  which  grew  until 
it  glowed,  and  barred  the  sky  with  black  and  crim- 
son.   Water  and  shores  were  veiled  in  mist. 

Two  sailors  on  the  Monitor's  deck  were  kneeling 
at  the  base  of  the  turret,  pulling  soaked  oakum  from 
under  it  with  improvised  wire  hooks.  A  third  sailor 
had  fallen  asleep,  face  down,  on  the  bolted  iron  plat- 
ing of  the  deck.  They  were  grimy,  unshaven,  un- 
kempt. 

"This  is  better'n  bein'  shut  in  a  iron  box  under 
water,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

"Awful  smell  down  there,"  agreed  the  other. 
"Pete's  played  out,"  he  observed,  glancing  at  tlie 
sleeper.  Then  he  looked  at  the  handful  of  flabby 
oakum  which  he  held.  "What'll  we  do  with  this 
here  stufif?    Overboard?" 

"Bo's'n  said,  take  it  to  the  wardroom.  Next 
time  we  strike  half  a  sea  we'll  get  another  shower 
bath  below — oakum  or  no  oakum." 


THE  MONITOR.  197 

The  boatswain's  mate  stumbled  up  the  hatchway 
upon  the  deck.  He  shook  himself  and  drew  a  deep 
breath. 

"Blamed  if  I  ain't  asleep  standin'  up!"  he 
growled.  Then  he  caught  sight  of  the  man  asleep 
lying  down.  "Hi,  there,  you  lubber!"  he  shouted, 
poking  with  his  toes  the  sleeper's  ribs.  "What  do 
you  mean?    Wake  up!" 

The  man  stirred,  groaned,  and  rolled  asleep  again. 

"Wake  up!"  repeated  the  boatswain's  mate,  em- 
phasizing the  command  with  a  vigorous  kick. 
"Clear  for  action,  you !" 

The  man  rose  heavily  and  grumbled,  "  'Tain't 
much  sleep — five  minutes  in  three  days." 

"You  yank  that  oakum  out  o'  there  quick,"  was 
the  mate's  delicate  repartee.  He  examined  the  iron 
base  of  the  turret,  which  was  supposed  to  form  a 
water-tight  joint  with  the  great  bronze  ring  let  into 
the  deck. 

"She's  rusted,"  he  observed.  "Pass  out  that  oil 
can." 

Seeing  that  the  ports  of  the  turret  were  closed, 

he  exclaimed,  "What  the !    Why  ain't  that 

port-stopper  open?"  He  ran  up  the  ladder  to  the 
top  of  the  turret,  leaned  down  into  the  hatchway 
and  shouted,  "Trice  up  that  port-stopper.  Are  you 
afraid  of  catching  cold  in  there?" 


198  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"There  ain't  enough  of  us.  She's  too  heavy," 
came  a  sepulchral  protest  from  within  the  iron 
tower. 

"Heavy  be  blowed.  Get  ahold  there."  The  mate 
disappeared  through  the  hatch  and  presently  the 
great  pendulum  port-stopper  moved  clear  of  the 
port.  A  yellow  beam  of  light  came  through  the 
opening  and  was  lost  in  the  spreading  daylight. 

"Pass  out  that  oil  can."  An  arm  thrust  out  the 
specified  article,  which  was  taken  by  one  of  the  men 
outside.  The  mate's  head  appeared,  "Oil  that  hemp 
and  rub  rust.    Clear  round."    The  mate  vanished. 

From  the  hatchway  emerged  two  officers  and  a 
trim  seaman,  the  latter  carrying  two  folded  flags. 
The  officers  filled  their  lungs  and  looked  about. 

"Run  them  right  up,  John."  The  sailor  saluted, 
and  going  to  the  fore,  bent  on  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
being  careful  not  to  let  one  silk  fold  touch  the  deck. 

To  the  eastward,  the  two  officers,  Greene  and 
Webber,  could  see  the  black  hulls  of  the  Roanoke 
and  St.  Lawrence,  looming  above  the  water;  be- 
yond the  frigates  they  could  make  out  through  the 
mists  the  bastions  of  the  fort. 

"Where  is  the  Merrimac?"  asked  Webber,  who 
carried  no  glass. 

"She  must  lie  of¥  here  in  the  heavier  mist,"  said 
the  other,  pointing  his    glass    to    the    southwest. 


THE  MONITOR.  199 

"There  you  can  see  the  rip-raps — the  Merrimac  is 
under  Sewall's  Point,  still  farther  to  the  right."  He 
handed  over  his  glass  to  Webber. 

Here  and  there  the  mist  was  wavering  and  break- 
ing. 

"There  she  is  now,"  cried  Webber,  as  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  great  black  citadel  upon  the  water. 
"Here,  ofif  the  port  quarter  about  four  miles."  He 
returned  the  glass  to  Greene,  who  also  saw. 

"I  wonder  if  she's  got  up  steam?"  he  said,  glanc- 
ing at  their  own  smokestack,  whence  a  black  cloud 
was  pouring  up. 

"I  can't  see  whether  that's  mist  or  smoke,"  said 
Webber. 

"It's  mist,"  answered  Greene,  after  a  moment. 
The  sun  was  striking  the  fog  now,  and  curling  it  up 
in  great  white  wreaths. 

"The  lucky  dogs  are  asleep,"  observed  Webber, 
taking  the  glass  from  his  eyes. 

"No  sleep  for  us,"  said  Greene. 

"The  gas  in  that  engine-room  was  death  on 
lungs,"  commented  Webber. 

"And  the  sound  in  that  anchor-well  resembled 
the  death  groans  of  twenty  men,"  added  Greene. 
"It  was  the  most  horrible,  dismal  sound  I  ever 
heard." 

The  Merrimac  could  now  be  seen  plainly,  and 


200  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Webber,  allowing  for  distance,  and  estimating  her 
size,  exclaimed,  "Jove,  she's  big!  It's  David  and 
Goliath  today." 

Lieutenant  Worden,  a  large  man  with  a  very- 
long  beard,  square-cut,  came  up  the  hatchway.  He 
was  calm,  but  very  earnest — with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  is  keeping  many  things  in  mind  for  instant 
use.  The  officers  saluted,  and  Worden  observed  the 
Merrimac. 

"Steam  not  yet  up  on  her?"  he  said,  and  with- 
out waiting  for  an  answer,  added,  with  satisfac- 
tion, "We're  ahead  of  her.  Lieutenant  Hamilton 
not  yet  come?"  he  asked,  still  looking  at  the  Mer- 
rimac. 

"Not  yet,  sir,"  answered  Greene. 

"What  time  is  it,  Greene?"  asked  the  command- 
ing officer,  still  looking  through  his  glass. 

"Seven-fifteen." 

"Hamilton  should  come,"  he  said,  turning  and 
slipping  his  glass  into  its  case.  "He  saw  the  Mer- 
rimac in  action.  He  knows  her  tactics.  I've  been 
counting  on  his  suggestions  before  we  begin." 

"I  just  now  heard  them  lower  a  boat  on  the  Min- 
nesota, sir.     It's  probably  Hamilton." 

From  the  distant  funnel  of  the  Merrimac  curled 
up  a  wreath  of  smoke. 

"There's   the   smoke,"    said    Worden,     quickly. 


THE  MONITOR.  201 

"She's  getting  up  steam."  A  boat,  with  two  row- 
ers and  Lieutenant  Hamilton  came  round  the  stern 
of  the  Minnesota.  Evidently  the  findings  of  the 
courtmartial  had  not  yet  caused  Hamilton's  arrest. 

Without  haste,  and  speaking  very  precisely,  Wor- 
den  began  giving  orders  for  the  impending  action. 
"Lieutenant  Greene,"  he  said,  "you  will  command 
the  turret,  taking  sixteen  men  to  work  the  guns 
and  machinery.  Mr.  Webber,  you  will  command 
the  powder  division  on  the  berth  deck.  Station 
the  paymaster  and  my  clerk,  Toffey,  to  pass  orders 
from  the  pilot-house." 

Hamilton  stepped  aboard  and  saluted.  Worden 
returned  the  salute,  and  continued,  in  the  same  pre- 
cise voice: 

"Lieutenant  Hamilton  will  take  his  place  with 
me,  in  the  pilot-house.  We  will  remain  on  deck  for 
observation  until  the  last  moment.  Lieutenant 
Greene,  tell  Mr.  Stodder  that  he  is  to  take  charge 
of  the  wheel  for  revolving  the  turret  and  its  en- 
gine. Give  Mr.  Stimers  my  compliments,  and  ask 
him  if  he  will  kindly  help  you  and  Stodder,  as  emer- 
gencies arise."  Chief  Engineer  Stodder  was  a  pas- 
senger, who  had  already  volunteered  to  serve  in  any 
capacity.  "Bo's'n!"  cahed  Worden,  down  the 
hatchway. 


202  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  came  the  deep  response  from  be- 
low. 

"Get  your  men  forward  to  the  anchor  windlass. 
Be  ready  to  weigh  at  a  moment's  notice." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  repeated  the  hearty  voice. 

"Lieutenant,"  called  Worden  to  Greene,  who  had 
turned  to  go,  "tell  Stodder  to  try  the  revolving  ma- 
chinery at  once.  To  your  posts,  gentlemen !  You 
know  that  on  the  fight  we  make  depends  the  fate 
of  all  these  frigates,  our  seaboard  cities,  and  per- 
haps the  very  existence  of  the  Union." 

There  was  a  tightening  about  the  lips  and  a  gleam 
of  resolution  in  the  eyes  of  the  young  officers,  as 
they  saluted  and  turned  away.  It  was  a  short  speech 
and  a  simple,  but  Thucydides  could  have  invent- 
ed none  to  make  men  fight  better.  Among  the 
men  ran  a  terser  sentence  with  a  lower  meaning  and 
a  fiercer  emotion — "Remember  the  Cumberland !" 

Worden  alone  with  Hamilton,  gave  his  brother 
officer  a  nod  of  good  will.  "We  are  lucky,  sir,"  he 
said,  "to  have  today  an  officer  who  knows  the  water. 
From  what  I  hear,  those  pilots  should  swing  at  the 
yard  arm." 

"I  got  the  scoundrels  their  berths,  too,"  said 
Hamilton,  disgustedly.  "I  would  have  sworn  some 
of  those  fellows  could  not  be  induced  to  do  an  un- 


THE  MONITOR.  203 

derhanded  thing.  Of  course,  they  are  natives  of  this 
section,  and  their  sympathies  run  the  other  way." 

"You  saw  the  Merrimac  in  action,  Lieutenant?" 
said  Worden,  coming  quickly  to  the  all-important 
question.     "Can  we  beat  her?" 

"If  this  machine  works  as  it's  meant  to,  we  can 
beat  her  by  maneuvering,"  answered  Hamilton. 
"Her  smokestack's  all  shot  up,  her  fires  will  have 
little  draft,  and  she'll  be  slower  than  yesterday." 

"What's  her  speed?" 

"Five  knots  yesterday  ;  less  today." 

"And  her  draft?" 

"Twenty-two  feet.    Ours  must  be  about  ten  ?" 

"Exactly." 

"The  water  is  but  eighteen  where  we  are  now," 
said  Hamilton.  "We  can  skim  all  around  her, 
dodge  her  broadsides,  and  draw  off  to  shoal  water 
if  she  tries  to  board.  That  overcomes  the  advan- 
tage of  her  big  crew." 

"We're  a  small  target,  too,"  added  Worden. 
"The  four  guns  of  her  broadside  are  therefore  no 
better  than  our  single  shot.  We  fire  but  one  of  our 
two  guns  at  a  time.    She  has  no  solid  shot?" 

"Nothing  but  shells.  Six-inch  rifles  and  nine- 
inch  Dahlgrens." 

"Against  our  eleven-inch  solid  shot !"  exclaimed 


204  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Worden.  He  had  been  led  to  believe  the  Merri- 
mac's  ordinance  heavier. 

A  great  black  cloud  was  by  this  time  issuing 
from  the  mutilated  smokestack  of  the  Merrimac. 
Instead  of  drawing  strongly  from  the  top,  it  came 
pufifing  out  through  the  great  shot  holes,  which  had 
been  very  imperfectly  closed. 

With  the  puffing  of  a  small  engine  below  deck, 
and  some  scraping,  the  turret  started  to  revolve. 
Worden  observed  it  carefully. 

"It  doesn't  start  smoothly,"  he  said,  "the  water 
came  under  it  in  a  perfect  cascade;  the  vertical 
shaft  and  the  cogs  are  rusted.  But  it  will  work 
unless  the  Merrimac's  shells  stop  it." 

"Dare  we  ram  her?"  asked  Hamilton.  "Will  our 
cutwater  stand  it  ?" 

"It  will,"  answered  Worden,  "and  our  hull  is  as 
solid  as  rock." 

"We  should  try  to  smash  her  propellor." 

"How  about  the  Merrimac's  ram  ?" 

"It  was  cast  iron  and  tore  loose.  She  left  it  in 
the  Cumberland."  As  Hamilton  spoke,  he  saw  a 
boat  from  shore  head  toward  the  Monitor,  but  paid 
no  attention. 

"How  deep  is  her  propellor?"  asked  Worden, 
thinking  of  the  nearness  to  the  surface  of  the  Mon- 
itor's bow. 


THE  MONITOR.  205 

"I  tried  to  find  out  during  the  night,"  answered 
Hamilton.  Worden  reflected  that  his  pilot  had  not 
been  wasting  time.  "The  man  I  depended  on  had 
not  come  when  I  left  the  Minnesota.  I  gave  orders 
for  him  to  follow  me  here,  if  he  came  in  time." 

"We'll  try  your  plan,  anyway,"  said  Worden. 
The  click-clack  of  oars  between  thole-pins  attracted 
his  attention  toward  the  shore.  "Perhaps  that's 
your  man,"  he  suggested. 

"It  doesn't  look  like  him,"  said  Hamilton. 
"There's  one  more  thing  I  thought  of.  How  much 
powder  is  there,  sir,  in  one  of  our  charges  ?" 

"Fifteen  pounds." 

Hamilton  shook  his  head.  "Can't  we  use  more?" 
he  asked.  He  knew  the  charge  for  each  piece  was 
prescribed,  and  he  looked  significantly  at  Worden 
to  see  if  he  were  willing  to  exceed  the  authorized 
charge. 

"Strictest  orders  against  it,"  replied  Worden, 
with  unmoved  face. 

"It  won't  pierce  her,"  said  Hamilton,  disappoint- 
edly. 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Perfectly." 

"Then  we  will  have  to  shoot  at  her  guns.  I  must 
tell  Greene  this."  Worden  ascended  the  turret  and 
leaned  over  the  hatchway,  talking  to  Greene  inside. 


206  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Hamilton  took  another  look  at  the  man  in  the 
boat,  who  was  now  within  hail.  He  saw  only  the 
back,  but  the  back  was  unmistakable. 

"Willis !"  he  exclaimed.  Willis  it  was,  and  as  he 
'brought  his  boat  alongside,  Hamilton  greeted  him 
with  ejaculations  of  disgust. 

"What  the  hell  do  you  mean  by  coming  aboard 
this  machine?"  he  demanded.  "There's  no  sense  in 
your  risking  your  neck  for  that  newspaper  of  yours. 
Stay  on  shore ;  you  can  see  better  what's  going  on. 
Nobody  knows  what  this  thing's  going  to  do." 

Willis  preserved  the  silence  of  the  Sphinx.  He 
made  fast  his  boat,  stopping  as  he  did  so  to  scan 
curiously  another  small  boat  just  leaving  the  shore. 
"Has  anybody  made  you  any  trouble  since  last 
night?"  he  asked,  straightening  up. 

"No.    Why?"  replied  Hamilton. 

"I've  some  papers  for  you  to  look  at,"  Willis  an- 
swered inconsequentially.  He  took  carefully  from 
his  pocket  the  message  Von  Benzinger  had  given 
to  Harlan.  One  corner  of  each  paper  was  stained 
dark  red.  "Be  careful,"  he  said,  handing  over  Von 
Benzinger's  dispatch  to  Wool.  "Don't  let  it  blow 
away.    It's  valuable." 

Willis  was  relieved  to  find  that  no  other  mes- 
senger of  Von  Benzinger's  had  secured  Hamilton's 
arrest.    He  began  to  think  they  had  not  found  Har- 


THE  MONITOR.  207 

Ian,  in  which  case  Von  Benzinger  would  beheve  his 
dispatches  had  reached  their  destination,  and  would 
take  no  further  step. 

Hamilton  glancing  at  the  official  heading,  saw 
that  Waverley  was  now  the  headquarters  of  a  Fed- 
eral brigade.    Then  he  read — 

"  'I  strongly  suspect  the  Virginian,  Lieutenant 
Earl  Hamilton,  U.  S.  N.,  of  being  in  communica- 
tion with  Richmond,  and  of  inducing  pilots  to 
ground  ships.'  " 

Hamilton's  gray  eyes  blazed  with  fury.  "Who 
is  the  pup?"  he  shouted,  and  his  eye  sought  the 
signature.  "Hugo  von  Benzinger!"  he  exclaimed, 
with  amazement.  "General  von  Benzinger?  What 
does  he  mean?"  The  tone  of  fierce  inquiry  in  the 
last  words  boded  ill  for  Von  Benzinger  if  he  should 
be  forced  to  ansv/er  in  person. 

"Read  along,"  said  WilHs,  "and  keep  as  cool  as 
you  can." 

"  'The  bearer  of  this  has  strong  confirmation, 
which  he  will  lay  before  you,' "  read  Hamilton. 
"Who's  the  bearer — where  did  you  get  this?"  he 
demanded. 

"The  bearer  was  Harlan,"  replied  Willis.  "I  got 
it  from  him." 

"This?"  said  Hamilton,  incredulously.  "Harlan 
carrying  Von   Benzinger's    message?     Damn    it, 


208  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

man,  drop  your  theatrical  mystery,  and  out  with 
what  you  know." 

"The  next  sentence  explains  about  Harlan,"  said 
Willis,  unruffled  by  his  friend's  heat. 

"  'He  has  already  rendered  important  secret  serv- 
ices.' Oh,  yes,"  said  Hamilton,  bitterly,  "to  both 
sides.    Did  he  give  you  this?" 

"Yes,"  said  Willis,  slowly.  "Not  wiUingly, 
though." 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"I  shot  him." 

"Shot  him !"  For  an  instant  Hamilton  looked 
extreme  disapproval.  "You  shouldn't  have  done 
it,"  he  blurted  out.  Then  a  new  thought  struck 
him.  "Good  God,  old  fellow,  you  did  it  to  save 
me.  Thanks,  thanks,  for  your  splendid  friendship, 
but  you  shouldn't  have  done  it ;  you  shouldn't  have 
done  It." 

"Harlan  deserved  it,"  said  Willis. 

"I  know,  I  know,  but — did  you  kill  him?" 

"No,"  said  Willis,  "he  fell  at  my  shot,  but  picked 
himself  up  afterward.  Look  at  the  next  thing  in 
this  truthful  epistle."  As  Hamilton  read,  Willis 
looked  anxiously  at  the  boat  coming  from  shore. 
There  were  two  men  in  it;  it  came  slowly,  and  it 
was  headed  for  the  Monitor.  "Von  Benzinger's  ac- 
cusation," thought  Willis. 


THE  MONITOR.  209 

"  'Virginia  Eggleston,  of  Waverley  plantation,  is 
probably  his  accomplice.  Am  watching  her,'  "  read 
Hamilton.  "The  hound !"  he  exclaimed.  "He'd 
better  not  say  anything  against  her !" 

Over  at  Sewall's  Point  the  Merrimac  was  now 
moving,  swinging  her  ponderous  length  until  she 
should  head  toward  the  Minnesota.  Worden  came 
from  the  turret  toward  the  main  hatchway.  He 
looked  curiously  at  Willis. 

"Does  your  news  bear  on  the  fight.  Lieutenant?" 
he  asked. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Hamilton,  "it's  an  infamous  lie 
about  me  and  the  woman  I  love." 

"No  time  for  that  now.  Lieutenant,"  said  Wor- 
den, a  little  sharply. 

"Lieutenant  Worden,  she  is  in  danger ;  I  must 
have  a  moment  to  think — to  form  a  plan.  It  takes 
fifteen  minutes  to  wind  the  Merrimac.  She  won't 
be  in  good  range  for  half  an  hour."  Hamilton's 
earnestness  appealed  to  Worden. 

"Just  so  you  keep  your  nerve  steady  for  the 
battle,"  he  said,  relenting.  "I  give  you  till  we  weigh 
anchor.  Remember  your  duty,  sir."  The  com- 
mander of  the  Monitor  went  below. 

"Look  here,  Hamilton,"  said  WilHs.  "Do  you 
see  that  boat  coming  this  way." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Lieutenant. 


210  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Now,  ten  to  one  that's  an  order  for  your  arrest 
on  this  suspicion  of  Von  Benzinger's.  That's  why 
I  came  here — to  block  his  game.  It's  just  like  him 
to  wait  till  the  last  minute,  so  the  Monitor  won't 
have  time  to  get  another  pilot." 

"But,  why?"  asked  Hamilton,  dazed.  "He 
wouldn't  want  to  do  that." 

"He  wouldn't?"  sniffed  Willis.  "I  haven't  time 
to  explain.  Von  Benzinger's  a  Confederate — or  will 
be  if  this  cheese  box  is  beaten.  He  designed  the 
Merrimac," 

Hamilton  stared  blankly. 

"This  proves  it,"  said  Willis,  handing  over  the 
note  which  was  half  cipher.  All  that  Hamilton 
could  read  was,  of  course,  the  open  writing  at  the 
bottom. 

To  Lieutenant  E.  H., 
On  Minnesota. 
Your    proposal    concerning    pilots    is    approved.      Will 
count  on  you.     Merrimac  will  attack  on  seventh  or  eighth. 
Franklin  Buchanan,  C.  S.  N. 

"Great  guns,  man !"  ejaculated  Hamilton,  startled 
at  the  words  which  seemed  to  fasten  the  guilt  of 
corrupting  the  pilots  conclusively  upon  himself. 
"That's  damned  queer  proof  of  VoJi  Bcnsingcrs 
treachery." 

"Von  Benzinger  wrote  it  himself.    He  bribed  the 


THE  MONITOR.  211 

pilots.  That's  why  he  forged  this.  Harlan  was 
taking  it  to  Buchanan.  Buchanan  was  to  copy  it. 
Then  Harlan  would  go  to  Wool  with  it.  Wool 
knows  Buchanan's  writing.  It  would  have  fin- 
ished you.     Devilish  clever  scheme,  eh?" 

"Oh,  devilish,"  said  Earl.  He  somehow  failed 
to  appreciate,  as  Willis  did,  the  aesthetic  quality  of 
the  thing.    "What's  this  cipher  stufif?"  he  asked. 

"That's  the  kernel  of  the  nut,"  said  Willis.  "It's 
the  most  diabolical  cipher  I  ever  tackled,  and  I 
knew  practically  what  it  said,  too."  With  innocent 
pride  Willis  read  ofif  the  cipher: 

Flag  Officer  Franklin  Buchanan, 
Commanding  Merrimac. 
Monitor  in  Roads,  and  will  fight  you  tomorrow.     Board 
her,  lash  her,  cover  turret  with  tarpaulins;   throw  in  hand 
grenades. 

Von  B. 

"Better  catch  her  before  he  boards  her,"  said 
Hamilton,  grimly.  "So  that's  Von  Benzinger! 
Well,  Willis,  you  know  how  much  I  owe  you.  I 
take  back  what  I  said  about  shooting  Harlan.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  you,  I  can  see  where  Virginia 
and  I  would  be.  And  you've  done  the  country  a 
service  in  blocking  the  scheme  to  leave  the  Monitor 
without  a  pilot.  Now  it's  simple.  With  that  cipher, 
and  your  proof  as  to  what  Harlan  really  was,  you 
can  finish  Von  Benzinger.     You  must  go  straight 

14 


212  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

to  Wool.  Why  didn't  you  go  there  in  the  first 
place?" 

"I  thought  Von  Benzinger  would  find  out  Har- 
lan didn't  get  to  the  fort.  Then  he'd  invent  some- 
thing else  to  stop  you.  The  surest  place  to  inter- 
cept him  was  here.  Once  into  the  battle  you're 
safe — so  is  the  Monitor." 

"Thanks,"  said  Hamilton. 

"Who's  in  that  boat,  anyway?"  asked  Willis. 

"It  can't  be  Henderson,  can  it?" 

"By  Jimtown,  it  is." 

"Bad  news  from  Virginia,"  muttered  Earl. 

The  man  rowing  Henderson's  boat  brought  her 
alondside  and  caught  hold  of  the  deck. 

"What's  wrong,  Squire?"  asked  Hamilton,  as  the 
Squire  stepped  gingerly  aboard. 

"Sir,  you  are  a  Federal  officer,"  said  Henderson. 
"You  are  a  Federal  officer,  but  Mrs.  Poynter  says 
that  Miss  Virginia's  life  depends  on  your  comin' 
right  away  to  Waverley." 

"What  has  happened,  man?     Speak  quick." 

"I'm  afraid,  sir — I  hate  to  say — I  cannot  believe 
that  a  lady  of  her  refinement — " 

"For  God's  sake,  what  is  it?" 

"I'm  afraid,  Earl,"  said  the  Squire— the  old  name 
coming  to  his  lips  in  his  emotion — "I'm  afraid  she 
killed  Lafe  Harlan.    It  must  have  been  accidental." 


THE  MONITOR.  213 

"Who  says  she  did  ?"  demanded  Hamilton,  fierce- 

"General  von  Benzinger." 

Hamilton  gave  an  inarticulate  snarl,  as  if  of  a 
great  caged  animal. 

"The  sentry  said  he  thought  she  did  it — it  looked 
like  it  to  him.  Harlan  was  lying  shot  through  the 
lung  at  her  feet,  an'  her  pistol  was  still  warm  right 
where  she  dropped  it  beside  her.  And  Harlan  him- 
self, when  Von  Benzinger  asked  him  who  shot  him, 
said  'Virginia' — I  came  in  just  as  he  said  it,  and  it 
was  the  last  word  he  ever  spoke." 

"So  he's  dead,"  mused  Willis. 

"The  blackguard!"  burst  out  Hamilton.     "The 

coward!     The  !     My  God!     How  could  the 

man  do  that?    Lafe  couldn't  do  that!" 

"I  heard  him  say  it,"  reasserted  the  Squire, 
mournfully. 

"Did  Lafe  understand  Von  Benzinger's  ques- 
tion?" asked  Hamilton.  "/  would  have  died  with 
her  name  on  my  lips."  It  was  a  great,  illuminating 
touch  of  charity.  Hamilton  had  put  himself  in  Har- 
lan's place. 

"I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  the  Squire,  his 
face  brightening.  No  one  else  had  thought  of  it  till 
then — the  eye  witnesses  of  the  tragedy  had  been  so 
convinced  of  Virginia's  guilt  by  what  they  had 


214  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

heard  and  seen  that  Harlan's  dying  word  had  only 
added  assurance  to  a  certainty.  And  the  hope  en- 
tertained by  some  that  the  shooting  would  be 
proved  accidental  was  removed  when  the  evidence 
brought  out  the  strong  motives  Virginia  had  for 
intercepting  Harlan's  messages. 

"I  shot  Harlan  myself,"  said  Willis,  abruptly. 

"You !"  exclaimed  the  bewildered  Squire.  "So 
you're  the  murderer?" 

"That's  not  the  word,  Squire.    We  fought." 

"You  fought?  Lafe  Harlan  was  the  best  shot 
in  Virginia." 

Willis  took  off  his  hat  and  showed  a  red  line 
on  the  side  of  his  head.  "An  inch  makes  a  big  dif- 
ference sometimes,"  he  observed. 

"When  is  the  trial  to  be.  Squire?"  asked  Ham- 
ilton, thinking,  of  course,  that  he  and  Willis  would 
have  plenty  of  time  to  show  what  Von  Benzinger 
was,  and  establish  Virginia's  innocence. 

"They  tried  her  late  last  night,"  replied  the 
Squire. 

"What !  What  was  it— the  verdict  ?"  asked  Ham- 
ilton, with  horror. 

The  Merrimac  loomed  large  now — less  than  a 
mile  away. 


THE  MONITOR.  215 

"I  heard — "  began  Henderson.  He  looked  at 
Hamilton  and  stopped. 

"Tell  me,  man!" 

"I  heard  she  was  condemned." 

"Condemned!"  groaned  Hamilton. 

"When  I  left,"  said  Henderson,  "they  were  send- 
ing the  findings  of  the  courtmartial  to  the  fort  for 
General  Wool  to  sign." 

There  was  a  flash  and  puff  of  smoke  in  one  of 
the  Merrimac's  bow  ports.  The  shell  crashed  into 
the  stern  of  the  Minnesota.  Burning  splinters  were 
thrown  upon  the  forward  deck  of  the  Monitor. 

"Weigh  anchor,"  came  the  deep  and  long-drawn 
call  of  the  boatswain,  below  the  deck.  Henderson 
scrambled  into  his  boat;  the  man  with  him  cast 
ofif  and  rowed  as  fast  as  he  could,  westward,  toward 
Newport  News. 

"To  the  fort,  Willis!"  said  Hamilton,  with  in- 
tense earnestness.  "Her  life  depends  on  you.  You 
have  everything — cipher — story — all."  The  Min- 
nesota's stern-chasers  opened  on  the  Merrimac. 

"Lieutenant  Hamilton!"  The  voice  was  Wor- 
den's,  coming  through  the  narrow  sight-hole  of  the 
pilot-house.  "Dismiss  that  boat,  sir,  and  to  your 
post." 

A  second  shell  from  the  Merrimac  screamed 
overhead,  and  striking  halfway  between  the  Mon- 


216  IN  HAMPTON   ROADS. 

itor  and  the  shore,  threw  up  a  great  column  of 
water.  WilHs  stepped  into  his  boat.  Hamilton 
gave  him  the  precious  cipher  and  a  warm  pressure 
of  the  hand.  The  Lieutenant  cast  off  the  painter, 
and  Willis  started  eastward  toward  the  fort. 

"Show  Wool  your  proof,"  shouted  Hamilton, 
running  toward  the  stern  as  the  boat  moved  off. 
"Tell  him  you  killed  Harlan,  and  who  Harlan  was. 
Get  orders  for  Von  Benzinger's  arrest." 

"All  right,  old  chap,"  called  out  Willis,  cheerily. 
"You  save  the  Union,  and  I'll  save  the  girl." 

Hamilton  realized  that  Willis  had  the  whole  sit- 
uation more  clearly  in  hand  than  he  had  himself. 
Willis  knew  what  to  do,  and  would  do  it.  Hamilton 
was  the  only  man  left  on  the  deck,  and  now  the 
Monitor  began  to  move.  He  must  get  to  the  pilot- 
house quickly.  The  Monitor,  circling  the  Minne- 
sota, passed  close  to  Henderson's  slow-moving 
scow. 

"Tell  Mrs.  Poynter  that  Willis  will  clear  Vir- 
ginia," he  shouted.  Just  as  he  started  down  the 
hatchway,  there  was  a  flash  in  the  starboard  port 
of  the  Merrimac.  The  gun  bore  on  neither  the 
Minnesota  nor  the  Monitor.  Under  the  overhang- 
ing bow-sprit  of  the  Minnesota,  Hamilton  saw  the 
exploding  shell  knock  Willis'  boat  into  kindling 
wood.    The  waters  closed  above  it.    The  Monitor 


THE  MONITOR.  217 

passed  on,  the  great  hull  of  the  frigate  shut  the 
spot  from  sight. 

"Willis !"  groaned  Hamilton.  The  shell  had 
taken  his  best  friend.  A  second  sudden  thought 
cut  deeper  yet — "Virginia !  That  shell  as  good  as 
kills  her,  too."  Back  upon  the  deck  sprang  Earl 
He  rushed  to  the  Monitor's  stern  to  catch  another 
glimpse  of  Willis.  Too  late — the  view  from  the 
Monitor  was  cut  off  by  the  frigate's  bow.  He 
shouted  to  the  men  on  the  Minnesota  to  look  be- 
yond and  tell  him  what  they  saw.  In  vain,  her 
crew  were  busy,  the  roar  of  the  Minnesota's  guns 
drowned  his  voice. 

The  Monitor,  having  completed  a  half  circle 
about  the  frigate,  was  already  headed  squarely  for 
the  Merrimac.  Now  her  engines  stopped.  Was  it 
for  him — the  pilot  ?  What  use  to  see  more  ?  What 
hope  was  there  for  Willis?  Had  he  not  seen  the 
shell  strike  square  ? 

"Henderson  !"  he  shouted.  "Come  back  !  I  must 
go  with  you  to  Waverley !"  But  Henderson  was 
either  beyond  hearing,  or  he  would  not  come  back. 
Frantically  Earl  tore  off  his  blouse.  It  was  only  a 
mile  to  shore. 

"Lieutenant  Hamilton!"  thundered  Worden's 
voice  behind  him.     Hamilton  faced  his  command- 


218  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ing  officer.  "This  ship  is  in  action,  sir,"  said  Wor- 
den. 

"They  are  murdering  her — I'm  going,"  came  the 
reply. 

Worden  leveled  his  pistol.  "Leave  this  ship  and 
I  shoot,"  he  said,  firmly. 

"Shoot,  then !"  panted  Hamilton,  "I'm  going." 

"Man,  are  you  mad?"  cried  Worden,  lowering 
his  pistol.  "The  battle  depends  on  you.  The  Union 
depends  on  you.  What  can  we  do  without  a  pilot? 
Will  you  leave  us  without  a  pilot?"  The  words  did 
not  reach  Hamilton's  mind.  "Lieutenant !"  Wor- 
den spoke  as  to  a  sleep-walker.  "Hamilton! 
You're  trying  to  desert." 

Hamilton  was  staggered.  "Desert !"  he  repeated. 
Worden  had  found  the  master  word.  "I'll  not  de- 
sert," said  Hamilton. 

One  ray  of  hope  flashed  into  his  despair.  The 
battle  over,  he  would  rush  to  Waverley.  Ah ! 
Would  he  be  too  late  ? 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  219 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS. 

Boom ! 

Von  Benzinger  stirred  uneasily  where  he  still 
slept,  his  head  upon  the  table. 

Boom !    Boom !    Boom !    Boom ! 

He  sat  upright  in  the  chair.  "The  guns  of  the 
Merrimac,"  he  murmured.    "I  cannot  be  mistaken." 

Boom !  The  tone  was  deep,  strong  and  full.  It 
sounded  like  a  base  note  struck  in  accord  with  the 
lighter  ones  that  had  gone  before. 

Boom !  Boom !  Boom !  Boom !  The  Mer- 
rimac again.  The  General  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
turned  to  the  window.  It  was  broad  day,  and  a 
mocking-bird,  alighting  in  a  pine  tree  near  by, 
poured  forth  a  volume  of  liquid  notes. 

Boom !  Once  more  that  single  roll  of  ominous 
thunder.    The  windows  rattled  with  the  sound. 

"Thunders  of  hell !  I  have  slept,  and  the  battle 
is  on."    He  looked  at  his  watch.    It  was  five  min- 


220  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

utes  past  eight,  and  the  findings  of  the  courtmartial 
had  not  gone.  They  should  have  been  at  the  fort 
two  hours  ago.  "Orderly!"  Von  Benzinger 
sprang  to  the  door,  and  tried  to  throw  it  open. 
"Has  the  devil  deserted  me?"  he  cried,  savagely. 
Then,  remembering  having  locked  the  door  after 
receiving  the  result  of  the  courtmartial,  he  turned 
the  key  and  strode  into  the  hall. 

"Orderly!"  he  called,  his  voice  having  an  un- 
familiar tone,  even  in  his  own  ears. 

A  soldier  stepped  into  the  hall  from  the  gallery, 
saluted  and  stood  at  attention. 

"My  compliments  to  Lieutenant  Edwards — I 
wish  to  see  him  at  once." 

The  guard  saluted,  and  withdrew. 

"To  fall  asleep  at  such  a  time,"  he  muttered,  as 
he  turned  once  more  into  the  room,  and  hurrying 
to  the  table,  opened  the  findings.  His  eye  ran  over 
the  pages.  Evidence  of  Von  Benzinger — he  smiled 
grimly — of  the  sentry — of  Mrs.  Poynter — of  Hen- 
derson— of  Estelle — ah,  here  it  is.  "We  find  Vir- 
ginia Eggleston  guilty  of  conspiring,  with  Lieu- 
tenant Hamilton,  of  the  Union  frigate  Minnesota, 
to  corrupt  the  pilots  and  wreck  the  fleet,  and  of  the 
murder  of  Lafe  Harlan,  a  Union  messenger,  and 
we  fix  the  penalty  at  death.  We  also  recommend 
that  Lieutenant  Hamilton  be  immediately  placed 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  221 

under  arrest  and  tried  for  treason."  It  was  there — 
everything  necessary  to  have  kept  Hamilton  from 
the  Monitor. 

Boom ! 

The  gun  again !  How  big  and  threatening  it 
sounded.  In  imagination,  he  saw  the  great  soHd 
shot  striking  the  Merrimac,  and  he  staggered  as 
though  he  himself  had  received  the  blow. 

Boom!    Boom!    Boom!    Boom! 

It  was  the  smaller  voice  of  the  Merrimac,  reply- 
ing with  her  four-gun  broadside.  The  detonations 
were  smaller,  pitched  in  a  higher  key  than  those 
from  the  Monitor. 

"There  is  a  difference.  I  shall  know  how  the 
battle  goes  by  the  sound  of  the  guns,"  he  said,  his 
eyes  flashing,  as  the  spirit  of  the  conflict  caught 
fire  in  his  soldier's  heart.  Then  he  turned  once 
more  to  the  documents. 

He  had  barely  seated  himself  when  Edwards  ap- 
peared at  the  door.  "Good  morning,  Lieutenant !" 
The  voice  was  quiet  now.  The  iron  will  of  the  man 
had  conquered.  The  nerves  so  lately  in  mutiny  had 
been  overcome,  bent  down,  chained,  and  the  master 
ruled  alone. 

"Good  morning,  sir.    You  have  orders  for  me?" 

"Yes.    What  is  that  firing  in  the  Roads  ?" 


222  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"The  Monitor  has  attacked  the  Merrimac,  sir. 
The  first  gun  was  fired  ten  minutes  ago." 

"Can  you  see  the  action  from  here  ?" 

"Fairly  well,  sir,  from  the  housetop." 

"Is  there  a  way  up  there  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  A  stairway  from  the  second  landing. 
Geary  and  I  were  up  just  now." 

"Good.  You  will  prepare  to  ride  to  the  fort  with 
papers  of  importance  for  General  Wool.  Take  a 
guard  of  six  men — of  the  right  kind.  You  under- 
stand?" 

"Yes,  sir.    Have  you  any  orders  for  breakfast?" 

"Tell  some  of  the  servants  to  bring  coffee  to  the 
dining-room — no — in  the  library."  The  court- 
martial  had  been  held  in  the  dining-room.  He  did 
not  like  the  thoughts  of  it.    "Where's  Geary  ?" 

"At  breakfast,  sir." 

"Very  well.  I'll  send  to  him  later.  When  you 
are  ready,  call  here  for  the  papers." 

Boom! 

General  von  Benzinger  started,  as  the  roar  of 
the  big  gun  rolled  through  the  house.  It  was  fol- 
lowed immediately  by  the  four  shots  of  the  Merri- 
mac, one  following  the  other  in  rapid  succession. 

"Why  does  the  Merrimac  fire  in  that  order?" 
cried  the  General,  springing  up  and  starting  toward 
the  door. 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  223 

"We  noticed  that,  sir,  and  Geary  concluded  that 
as  the  Monitor  was  such  a  small  mark  the  bigger 
boat  fired  one  gun  after  another  as  they  came  in 
range." 

"Quite  likely."  The  General  was  cool  again. 
"That  will  do.  In  half  an  hour  everything  will  be 
ready  for  you." 

Edwards  saluted  and  retired. 

Alone  once  more,  Von  Benzinger  took  up  the 
findings  of  the  courtmartial  and  went  over  each 
page  with  care,  stopping  occasionally  to  comment 
on  some  point  in  the  evidence  that  pleased  him. 
The  witnesses  had  told  their  stories  reluctantly ;  this 
was  manifest  from  the  questions  and  answers,  a 
point  to  argue  against  the  accused,  as  the  arch 
conspirator  knew  full  well.  He  noted  the  rambling 
and  irrelevant  replies  of  Virginia — replies  as  of 
one  talking  in  a  dream.  There  was  a  big  blot  in  one 
place,  on  the  otherwise  neat  manuscript,  and  im- 
mediately following  it,  the  line :  "The  prisoner 
fainted,  and  was  taken  from  the  room  by  Surgeon 
Cuthbertson." 

"Lieutenant  Harper  is  careless !"  said  the  Gen- 
eral, coolly  eyeing  the  inkspot.  When  he  came  to 
the  clause  which  recommended  the  immediate  ar- 
rest of  Hamilton,  he  frowned,  and  bit  his  lip. 

"If  I  hadn't  been  such  a  fool  to  fall  asleep,  he 


224  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

would  be  in  irons  now,  instead  of  out  there  helping 
Ericsson,  curse  him!  But  if  he  wins,  what  of  it? 
That  will  not  save  the  life  of  his  fair  Virginia.  If 
he  loses,  I  do  not  care.  They  can  both  go  free,  for 
I  shall  be  master  of  the  sea — their  poor  lives  I  can 
afiford  to  spare."  And  the  plotter  smiled  grimly  at 
his  suggested  generosity. 

"A  very  pretty  complication.  Monsieur  Hamil- 
ton," he  mused.  "I  wonder  how  it  would  be  solved 
if  you  knew  that  by  a  single  turn  of  a  screw  you 
might  save  the  life  of  the  girl  you  love,  and  your 
own  as  well.  That  if  you  refuse  to  make  that  turn, 
the  stipulations  of  this  contract  will  be  carried  out 
to  the  end."  He  tapped  the  findings  significantly. 
"But  you  do  not  know,  and  the  Merrimac  must 
fight  her  way  to  victory,  or — or  General  von  Ben- 
zinger  remain  what  he  is,  a  Union  spy-catcher." 

Boom ! 

"Damn  the  gun !  It  has  a  voice  like  a  volcano 
to  shake  the  earth."  But  the  Merrimac's  reply  was 
quick  and  sharp,  and  the  ring  of  her  guns  had  a 
tone  of  cheer  to  the  man  who  sat  there  in  the  blue 
uniform  of  a  Union  General,  praying  to  his  pagan 
gods  success  for  the  Southern  ram. 

"The  Merrimac  will  win,"  he  thought.  "But  if 
she  doesn't,  there  must  be  no  slip  in  this  evidence." 
One  by  one  he  took  up  the  articles  introduced  at  the 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  225 

trial,  and  examined  them  in  connection  with  the 
final  report. 

Exhibit  A.  Letter  of  Hamilton  to  Virginia, 
found  in  her  room,  announcing  his  safety  after  the 
battle. 

Exhibit  B.  Letter  of  Virginia  to  Hamilton, 
warning  him  of  the  suspicions  aroused  concerning 
the  pilots. 

Exhibit  C.  Richmond  Whig,  containing  adver- 
tisement of  Harlan's  connection  with  the  Federal 
Government. 

Exhibit  D.  Copy  of  dispatch,  written  by  Von 
Benzinger  to  Wool,  charging  Hamilton  with  treach- 
ery, and  given  to  Harlan  for  delivery. 

Exhibit  E.  Pistol,  acknowledged  by  Virginia 
to  be  hers,  and  found  empty  at  her  feet,  when  Har- 
lan was  shot. 

'     Exhibit   F.     Bullet   taken    from   Harlan's   dead 
body,  and  which  fitted  the  pistol,  marked  Exhibit  E. 

Exhibit  G.  Bullet  moulds  in  which  the  ball  was 
run,  and  which  were  proved  to  be  the  property  of 
Virginia  Eggleston. 

Exhibit  H.  Sketch  of  Waverley,  indicating  the 
spot  where  Harlan  was  shot,  and  position  of  Vir- 
ginia Eggleston  ;  the  sentry,  who  heard  the  shot ;  the 
pistol  and  the  body  of  Harlan. 

Having  placed  all  these  mute  witnesses  against 


226  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Virginia  in  a  compact  package,  General  von  Ben- 
zinger  sealed  it,  and  addressed  it  to  General  Wool. 
Then  hurriedly  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the  evi- 
dence, he  read  again  that  of  the  sentry.  After  de- 
scribing the  location,  where  he  was  posted,  and  the 
distance  he  was  required  to  cover,  his  evidence 
said: 

"It  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock.  I  was  at  the  end 
of  my  post,  farthest  from  the  house,  when  I  saw  a 
man  run  across  the  road  and  through  the  gate. 
I  ordered  him  to  halt,  and  ran  in  his  direction.  He 
paid  no  attention  to  my  order,  but  ran  on  straight 
toward  the  house.  I  called  again,  'Halt,  or  I  fire,' 
but  he  ran  on.  As  I  brought  my  gun  to  my  shoul- 
der to  fire,  he  was  in  direct  range  of  an  open  door 
of  the  house,  and,  in  the  light  thrown  from  within, 
I  saw  a  woman  standing  on  the  lawn,  near  the  steps 
that  led  up  to  the  gallery.  I  could  not  fire  without 
danger  of  hitting  her.  Just  as  he  came  within  a 
few  feet  of  her,  I  heard  a  pistol  shot,  and  saw  the 
man  fall.  I  do  not  know  whether  she  fired  the  shot 
or  not,  but  it  came  from  her  direction." 

From  Geary's  evidence,  he  read,  "When  I  reached 
the  spot.  General  von  Benzinger  and  several  other 
people  had  come  from  the  house.  I  heard  the  Gen- 
eral ask  the  man  who  shot  him,  and  he  said,  'Vir- 
ginia.'    I   saw   General  von   Benzinger  pick  up  a 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  227 

pistol  at  her  feet  and  examine  it.  He  then  handed 
it  to  me,  and  asked  me  to  do  the  same.  It  was  not 
loaded,  but  there  was  burned  powder  about  the 
muzzle,  and  the  barrel  was  warm,  as  if  it  had  been 
recently  fired.  General  von  Benzinger  ordered  the 
woman  placed  under  arrest." 

"Perfect,"  thought  Von  Benzinger,  as  he  folded 
the  sheets,  placed  them  in  an  envelope,  and  pre- 
pared to  seal  them  up.  "Was  it  my  pistol  that  was 
accidentally  discharged,  my  fair  Virginia  ?  Ugh ! 
The  man's  appearance  was  enough  to  make  any 
finger  press  too  hard  upon  the  trigger.  Very  well. 
It  is  the  keystone  in  the  arch  of  this  temple  I  have 
erected  for  my  preservation.  It  is  the  fate  of 
war,  fair  rebel — love  and  war.  You  scorned  me; 
you  preferred  a  miserable  sailor  to  the  man  whose 
brain  has  overthrown  the  systems  of  centuries, 
whose  genius  has  created  a  new  navy,  whose  Mer- 
rimac — " 

Boom! 

"The  Monitor  again.  I  had  almost  forgotten  you. 
Monsieur  Ericsson.  Ha!  What  do  you  here, 
Madam  ?  This  is  my  headquarters.  You  should  be 
announced."  He  arose  hurriedly,  and,  blowing  the 
flame  from  the  burning  wax  in  his  hand,  glowered 
at  Mrs.  Poynter,  standing  within  the  door. 

"General  von  Benzinger,"  said  the  widow,  her 

15 


228  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

voice  trembling  with  anxiety  and  emotion.  "What 
are  they  going  to  do  to  Virginia?" 

"She  has  been  tried,  Mrs.  Poynter." 

"Oh,  don't  I  know  that,  poor  dear.  But  she  is 
innocent  of  these  horrible  charges,  innocent  as  an 
angel!" 

"I  trust  so,  Mrs.  Poynter." 

"I  wish  I  might  believe  you.  What  did  that 
ghostly  tribunal  decide?" 

"That  I  cannot  tell  you." 

"Have  those  papers  anything  to  do  with  it?  Is 
that  their  verdict?"  cried  Mrs.  Poynter,  taking  a 
step  toward  the  table,  and  indicating  the  half-sealed 
envelope. 

"The  findings  went  to  General  Wool  an  hour 
ago,"  said  the  General,  inventing  a  lie  to  save  time. 
"This  is  my  statement  of  the  case — in  fact,  a  plea  for 
mercy.  The  prisoner  is  young,  pretty,  daughter  of 
an  old  Virginia  family — there  may  be  some  mis- 
take. Wool  should  be  in  no  haste  to  approve  the 
findings  of  the  court,  should  they  prove  prejudicial 
to  Miss  Eggleston.  Merely  suggestions,  Mrs. 
Poynter,  but  I  do  not  doubt  Wool  will  consider 
them."  Intrigue  fascinated  him,  and  he  wished 
not  to  be  troubled  with  Mrs.  Poynter's  pleadings 
and  demands.  The  battle  in  the  Roads  interested 
him  above  everything  else.     An  occasional  boom 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  229 

from  the  Monitor,  followed  by  the  fourfold 
roll  of  the  Merrimac,  told  him  neither  ship  had,  as 
yet,  gained  any  practical  advantage.  Once  these 
papers  were  on  their  way  to  Wool,  the  fight  should 
have  his  undivided  attention. 

Mrs.  Poynter's  troubled  face  cleared  with  his 
statement  concerning  Virginia.  His  words  were 
reassuring,  and  gave  her  hope.  Von  Benzinger 
was  the  only  one  in  the  place  who  could  ofrer  help, 
and  she  had  looked  for  frowns  and  a  curt  dismissal 
from  him.  To  find  him  already  engaged  in  trying 
to  save  Virginia  aroused  her  liveliest  gratitude, 
and  she  hastened  to  express  it. 

"How  noble  of  you.  General.  I  shall  never  for- 
get it  as  long  as  I  live.  I  am  sure  Wool  will  listen 
to  you.  He  is  a  kind  man,  although  he  is  such  a 
stickler  for  military  justice.  Senator  Poynter  and 
he  were  good  friends.  Why,  perhaps  he  would 
listen  to  me.  I'll  order  a  horse  and  ride  over  im- 
mediately." 

Here  was  a  danger  Von  Benzinger  had  not 
counted  on.  His  diplomacy  had  proved  a  boom- 
erang. She  must  not  go  to  the  fort,  that  was  cer- 
tain. 

"Your  thought  is  a  good  one,  Mrs.  Poynter,  but 
impracticable.  There  is  a  battle  going  on  in  the 
Roads ;  military  operations  of  the  greatest  import- 


230  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ance  are  being  considered  by  the  heads  of  depart- 
ments, and  you  would  find  admittance  to  General 
Wool  difficult,  if  not  impossible." 

"I  am  sure  he  would  see  me,"  declared  the  widow, 
with  emphasis. 

"It  would  be  a  tedious  wait  at  best,  and  the  au- 
dience might  come  too  late.  The  road  from  here  to 
the  fort  is  crowded  with  soldiers,  foot  and  horse, 
artillery,  transportation  trains,  and  natives  drunken 
with  yesterday's  victory.  A  dangerous  ride  for  a 
man.    Impossible  for  a  woman." 

"But  I  must  see  General  Wool,"  she  exclaimed, 
tears  starting  from  her  eyes.  "I  would  risk  any- 
thing to  get  Virginia's  release." 

"Why  not  write,  Mrs.  Poynter?" 

"It  would  take  a  letter  a  year  to  reach  him !"  she 
cried,  hysterically. 

"You  might  send  it  with  this,"  he  said,  a  tigerish 
gleam  in  his  eye.  "If  what  you  write  were  slipped 
in  here  before  I  finish  sealing  the  package,  it  would 
go  directly.    Edwards  is  waiting  for  it  now." 

"You're  a  genius,"  cried  the  widow,  her  quick 
sympathies  making  her  an  easy  victim.  "What 
shall  I  say?"  as  she  seated  herself  at  the  table,  and 
took  up  a  pen — 'My  dear  General  Wool' — There, 
I'm  so  nervous  I  can't  think." 

"Why  not  write:     T  endorse  every  word  here 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  231 

written  by  General  von  Benzinger,'  and  sign  it, 
Ready  in  a  moment,  Edwards.  Make  haste,  Mrs, 
Poynter,  my  orderly  is  waiting." 

"Here  it  is,  General.  'I  endorse  every  word  here 
written  by  General  von  Benzinger.  Cora  Poyn- 
ter.' Shall  I  slip  it  in  the  envelope?"  She  would 
have  caught  up  the  package,  but  Von  Benzinger 
quickly  interposed,  took  the  slip  from  her  fingers, 
deftly  ran  it  through  the  opening,  sealed  it,  and 
then,  turning  to  Mrs.  Poynter,  said,  with  great  cool- 
ness: 

"It  will  reach  the  General  safely,  never  fear,  Mrs. 
Poynter.  You  will  excuse  me  now.  I  must  have  a 
word  with  my  aide." 

He  held  the  door  open,  bowed  politely,  as  she 
passed  out,  and  then,  catching  up  the  exhibits  and 
the  findings,  gave  them  to  Edwards,  with  instruc- 
tions to  guard  them  with  his  life ;  place  them  in  the 
hands  of  none  but  General  Wool,  and  to  wait  for 
Wool's  reply. 

"An  added  strength !"  He  laughed  aloud  at  the 
thought.  "The  clever  widow  endorses  the  chain 
of  evidence  I  forged  with  such  care.  And  she  de- 
clares Wool  to  be  famous  for  military  justice. 
Even  his  nature  favors  me.  He  will  approve  the 
findings.     I  am  safe,  however  the  battle  goes." 

From  the  distant  waters  came  the  reverberative 


232  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

roar  of  the  Monitor.  A  moment  later  the  Merrimac 
replied. 

One,  two,  three — the  fourfold  roar  was  broken. 
The  Merrimac  had  lost  a  gun.  "Diable!"  ex- 
claimed Von  Benzinger,  and  hastily  mounted  the 
stairs  to  the  roof. 

Virginia  knelt  by  the  window,  looking  out  upon 
the  battle  in  the  Roads.  The  hours  of  endless  an- 
guish had  swept  away  her  strength,  and  her  eyes 
seemed  unusually  large  and  lustrous  in  the  setting 
of  her  pale  cheeks.  The  endless  hours !  She  had 
lived  years  since  yesterday  morning — happy  morn- 
ing, when  her  girl  troubles  seemed  so  great. 
Through  the  gathering  smoke  came  the  roll  of  the 
Merrimac's  guns.  How  different  from  yesterday. 
Then  the  guns  of  this  new  hope  of  the  South  were 
drowned  by  the  roar  of  more  than  a  hundred  can- 
non thundering  against  its  iron  sides.  Now  there 
was  only  the  roll  of  its  broadside — broken  by  that 
one  infrequent  gun  which  her  heart  told  her  was  the 
Monitor. 

Boom !  How  deep  it  was ;  how  commanding ! 
Was  Hamilton  on  that  ship?  If  she  only  knew 
what  had  happened — what  was  happening.  Was 
Earl  accused?  Did  he,  too,  chafe  in  confinement, 
listening  to  those  guns  ?  Must  he,  too,  wait,  power- 
less, while  his  trial  went  on,  without  a  chance  to  tell 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  233 

the  truth  and  prove  his  innocence?  "Oh,  Earl!" 
she  cried.  "You  are  at  least  spared  the  bitterest 
thought — you  do  not  know  the  fate  that  threatens 
me." 

Again  the  roll  of  the  Merrimac.  She  had  counted 
the  shots  over  and  over  again.  It  relieved  her  mind. 
One,  two,  three,  four — no,  the  fourth  was  not  there. 
Perhaps  the  man  at  that  gun  had  been  shot  at  his 
post.  And  Earl,  if  he  had  escaped  Von  Benzinger, 
and  was  on  the  Monitor,  that  might  be  his  fate. 
The  Merrimac  was  invincible,  pitiless,  like  the  mind 
that  made  it — rigid — cruel,  not  to  be  overcome. 
Was  it  not  better  so?  If  the  Merrimac  should  be 
destroyed,  the  endless  war  would  grind  on  and 
on — men's  cut  and  shattered  bodies  must  fall  by 
thousands,  and  the  hearts  of  wives  and  mothers 
quiver  with  the  pain  that  is  worse  than  death.  If 
the  Merrimac  should  win,  the  war  would  end,  the 
South  achieve  her  independence.  If  the  Merrimac 
should  win.  Von  Benzinger  would  go  to  the  Con- 
federates, his  treachery  be  known,  and  she  be  free. 
But  Earl — yes,  best  for  him,  too.  Best  for  him  even 
to  die  in  this  fight  than  to  live  and  win  it.  For,  if 
the  Merrimac  be  beaten,  Von  Benzinger  must  stay 
and  she  must  die,  and  Earl  be  accused  of  treason — 
dishonored — shot.  Oh,  strange,  strange,  strange! 
Best  for  her  country,  best  for  herself,  best  for  Earl, 


234  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

best  for  all,  that  Von  Benzinger  should  triumph; 
that  evil  should  prevail. 

Down  in  the  yard  the  soldiers  were  hurrying 
to  and  fro,  saddling  and  unsaddling  horses,  shout- 
ing orders,  or  riding  swiftly  away.  Other  horse- 
men came  at  intervals,  bearing  messages  which  they 
delivered  to  the  guards  at  the  door,  and  then 
dashed  madly  away  again.  Once  in  a  while  she 
could  hear  the  voice  of  Von  Benzinger,  giving  some 
quick  command. 

A  light  breeze  blowing  ofif  shore  swept  the  smoke 
of  battle  out  to  sea  and  revealed  the  strange  ships, 
like  two  sea-monsters  matched  in  deadly  conflict, 
now  charging  upon  each  other  with  fearful  roars 
and  flashes  of  flame,  now  withdrawing,  circling,  alert 
to  rush  in  again  upon  the  first  point  of  vantage. 
Now  the  smaller  one  went  puffing  round  and  round 
its  more  formidable  antagonist,  sending  out  an  oc- 
casional shot  with  a  mighty  roar  that  shook  the 
earth.  The  Merrimac,  like  a  giant  dragon,  turning 
more  slowly,  answered  each  new  challenge  of  her 
quicker  foe  with  all  the  guns  she  could  bring  to 
bear.  At  first  there  were  four  on  each  side.  The 
dragon's  teeth.  Von  Benzinger  called  them.  An 
eleven-inch  solid  shot  from  the  Monitor,  planted 
squarely  in  the  mouth  of  one  of  these,  had  split  it 
half  way  to  the  breech.     On  the  opposite  side  an- 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  235 

other  had  been  dismounted.  But  the  beast  fought 
on,  sullen,  revengeful,  waiting  to  catch  her  lighter 
adversary  in  the  deeper  water,  run  her  down,  and 
crush  her  to  the  bottom.  Along  the  shore,  officers 
sat  on  their  horses,  anxiously  watching  the  fight. 
Thousands  upon  thousands  of  soldiers  and  civilians 
crowded  down  to  the  water's  edge  to  witness  the 
thrilling  encounter.  Not  a  battery  manned,  nor  a 
ship  moving  in  the  bay — only  those  two  iron  mon- 
sters out  there  in  the  Roads,  lashing  the  water  to  a 
foam,  pufifing,  bellowing,  charging,  ramming,  re- 
tiring and  charging  again — the  steel-helmeted  ideas 
of  two  men,  Ericsson  and  Von  Benzinger,  fighting 
the  duel  of  a  nation,  fighting  for  the  supremacy  of 
the  sea. 

Suddenly  a  shell  struck  squarely  the  pilot-house 
of  the  Monitor.  The  iron  top,  like  the  cover  of  a 
cistern,  flew  up  and  fell  back  again.  The  Monitor 
drifted  aimlessly — as  though  she  had  lost  her  mind. 
Then  she  turned  and  ran  in  toward  shore.  A  shout 
went  up  from  the  Confederate  fleet  lying  in  the 
James.  "The  Yankee  cheese  box  is  quitting !  She's 
whipped!  She's  whipped!"  and  they  fired  pistols 
and  guns,  and  danced  on  the  decks  for  joy. 

Every  heart  of  the  Federal  forces  stood  still. 
Messages  flashed  over  the  wires  to  Washington, 
"Prepare  to  dam  the  Potomac."    An  officer  came 


236  IN  HAMPTON   ROADS. 

dashing  up  to  Waverley,  and,  swinging  from  his 
horse,  ran  up  the  steps  to  the  house.  Two  orderlies 
rode  through  the  gate  toward  their  quarters. 

"What's  wrong  with  the  Monitor?"  inquired  the 
guard,  pacing  back  and  forth  under  Virginia's  win- 
dow, as  one  of  the  men  trotted  past. 

"One  of  her  officer's  wounded.  Some  say  her 
commander,  Worden ;  some  say  her  pilot,  Ham- 
ilton.   They're  bringing  him  ashore." 

"Is  that  all?    Then  the  boat  ain't  whipped?" 

"That's  what  they  say,"  and  the  man  spurred  on. 

Hamilton !  Then  he  was  on  the  boat.  He  had 
not  been  arrested.  But  he  was  wounded,  perhaps 
dying.  She  must  go  to  him.  She  forgot  she  was 
a  prisoner,  forgot  the  battle,  forgot  everything  but 
the  words  of  the  soldier.  "One  of  the  officers 
wounded — some  say  Hamilton."  She  ran  to  the 
door.  It  was  locked.  Outside  she  heard  the  steady 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  the  sentinel,  pacing  along 
the  hall.  Then  she  heard  Black  Mammie's  voice, 
mellow  and  soft  and  pleading. 

"O,  Lawd,  don'  let  no  ha'm  come  ter  ma  po' 
honey  chile.  Frow  aroun'  huh  yo'  tectin'  a'ms,  O, 
Lawd !    Don'  let  no  ha'm  come  ter  ma  po'  honey  !" 

"Save  him,  save  Earl.  O,  God  of  Truth,  save  and 
protect  him !" 


THE  DUEL  OF  IRONCLADS.  237 

The  proud  Virginia  girl  stood  with  clasped  hands 
and  head  humbly  bowed,  joining  in  the  prayer  of  the 
black  slave  to  the  Author  of  All. 


238  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE   DEATH   WARRANT, 

When  Von  Benzinger  reached  the  housetop,  the 
two  boats  were  scarcely  twenty  yards  apart,  the 
Monitor  swiftly  bearing  down  upon  the  Merrimac. 
The  General  quickly  adjusted  his  glasses.  He  saw 
the  Monitor  swerve  to  the  left,  closing  upon  her  ad- 
versary. Her  turret  revolved  until  the  muzzle  of 
her  two  big  guns  almost  met  the  one  protruding 
from  the  Merrimac's  port.  As  the  vessels  touched 
there  was  a  shock,  a  cloud  of  smoke,  a  double  or 
treble  report.  One  side  of  the  Monitor's  low  free- 
board slid  up  the  inclined  unshakable  wall  of  the 
Merrimac,  the  other  sank  so  suddenly  that  the 
water  curled  over  and  broke  upon  her  deck — the 
white  line  of  surf  extending  from  stem  to  stern.  As 
the  Monitor  recoiled  and  slid  ofif,  she  reeled  from 
side  to  side,  unable  to  fire  again,  and  the  Merrimac 
poured  in  a  full  broadside. 

"A  brave  shot,"  applauded  the  General.     "A  few 


THE  DEATH  WARRANT.  239 

more  like  that,  Monsieur  Ericsson,  and  your 
pretty  toy  will  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  Ha! 
She  is  turning  in  shore.  She  is  damaged.  She  is 
going  to  give  up  the  fight."  He  drew  a  deep 
breath,  following  the  Monitor  as  she  drew  off  into 
shoal  water. 

The  Merrimac  turned  slowly,  and  pointing  her 
prow  in  the  direction  of  the  grounded  Minnesota, 
steamed  away,  leaving  the  Monitor,  as  she  be- 
lieved, in  a  crippled  state.  Von  Benzinger  shut  his 
glasses,  put  them  back  in  the  case,  and  went  slowly 
down  the  stairs.  His  hour  of  triumph  had  come. 
The  disabled  Monitor  could  not  hope  to  save  the 
remaining  ships  in  the  harbor.  Before  the  sun 
went  down,  the  Roads  would  be  cleared  of  every 
Union  vessel,  and  tomorrow,  with  the  help  of  the 
land  forces,  the  Merrimac  would  take  Fortress 
Monroe.  The  South,  commanding  the  outlet  to 
the  sea  from  Richmond,  and  the  cork  of  the  bottle 
being  transferred  from  the  James  River  to  the  Po- 
tomac, recognition  by  the  European  powers  would 
follow  swiftly.  Already  he  felt  upon  his  brow  the 
victor's  crown,  already  rang  in  his  ears  the  plaudits 
of  the  world. 

As  he  passed  along  the  hall  he  hesitated,  looking 
toward  the  door  that  led  to  Virginia's  room.  He 
saw  her  again  as  she  stood  on  the  gallery  last  night. 


240  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  soft  moonlight  on  her  hair  and  in  her  eyes.  How 
beautiful  she  was !  He  made  a  step  in  the  direction 
of  her  door.  Then  a  low  voice,  full  of  pathos,  of 
love,  of  worship,  fell  on  his  ears.  It  was  Black 
Mammie,  praying  for  her  mistress.  He  stopped. 
Something  of  the  same  feeling  took  possession  of 
him  that  he  felt  in  the  morning  at  mention  of  the 
dining-room.  It  was  there  the  courtmartial  had 
been  held,  and  he  had  caught  sight  of  her  white  face, 
as  the  surgeon  carried  her  by  him  to  the  hall.  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  turned  to  descend  the 
stairs. 

"Why  should  I  think  of  her?"  he  said,  with  a 
proud  lifting  of  his  head.  "There  will  be  beautiful 
women,  many  beautiful  women,  ready  to  smile  on 
me  tomorrow.  The  Monitor  is  beaten,  she  cannot 
harm  me.    Let  the  girl  go  to  her  sailor  lover." 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  words,  there  came  once 
more  the  thunder  of  that  awful  gun.  It  was  so  sud- 
den, so  unexpected,  so  opposed  to  all  he  had  been 
thinking,  that  it  whirled  him  about  as  though  he 
had  been  caught  in  a  cyclone.  And  before  he  recov- 
ered from  the  shock,  before  his  dazed  brain  could 
realize  the  overthrow  of  all  his  dreams,  the  report 
came  again,  full,  forceful,  terrible. 

Down  the  stairs  he  tramped,  stepping  as  though 


THE  DEATH  WARRANT.  241 

his  feet  were  shod  with  lead.  In  the  hall  he  met 
Geary,  flushed,  elated. 

"I  thought  the  Monitor  was  whipped,"  he  stam- 
mered. 

"So  did  we  all,"  cried  Geary,  mistaking  the  Gen- 
eral's excitement  for  solicitude  for  the  Ericsson 
ship.  "But  it  was  a  mistake.  Hear  her  pound- 
ing away  there?  That  doesn't  sound  like  defeat, 
eh  ?  Her  commander,  Worden,  is  wounded.  They 
pulled  into  shoal  water,  thinking  to  send  him  ashore, 
but  he  wouldn't  leave  the  ship.  They  have  signaled 
that  he  is  not  dangerously  hurt.  Lieutenant  Greene 
has  taken  command,  and  they  have  returned  to  the 
fight,  with  unwonted  fierceness.  That  man  Hamil- 
ton must  be  all  right.  The  way  the  Monitor  skims 
around  her  adversary,  pounding  her  side,  firing  at 
her  guns,  cutting  down  her  flags,  knocking  over 
her  smokestacks,  and  getting  away  before  the  hip- 
popotamus can  harm  her,  is  glorious.  Damn  me,  if 
I  ever  saw  anything  like  it." 

"Hamilton !  Shooting  spitballs  at  a  hippopota- 
mus !"  The  scene  of  yesterday  swept  before  the 
eyes  of  General  von  Benzinger,  distinct,  clear,  re- 
proachful. Why  had  he  waited?  A  note  to  Gen- 
eral Wool  and  all  this  might  have  been  averted. 
But  the  glamour  of  Waverley  was  over  everything. 
For  the  sake  of  a  few  hours'  conversation  with  a 


242  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

simple  country  girl,  he  had  left  the  scene  of  action, 
delayed  sending  the  charges,  and  now  exposure, 
defeat,  death !  And  a  moment  ago  the  prize  was 
almost  within  his  grasp — the  cup  of  glory  was  at 
his  lips.  This  man  Hamilton  had  dashed  it  aside. 
Bitter,  bitter.  But  there  was  yet  a  game  to  play. 
He  need  not  fail  utterly.  If  he  could  hold  his  pres- 
ent place,  other  chances  would  come.  These  two 
beings  were  in  his  way,  but  what  were  they  after 
all?  He  had  the  power  to  crush  them.  Had  not 
the  courtmartial  condemned  them?  Only  one 
thing  was  lacking,  the  signature  of  General  Wool. 
Where  was  Edwards? 

These  thoughts  whirled  through  his  brain  and 
made  him  dizzy.  He  staggered,  and  Geary,  think- 
ing him  about  to  fall,  hastily  poured  out  a  glass  of 
spirits  and  offered  it  to  him.  He  put  it  on  the  table 
untouched.  Action !  He  felt  the  need  of  action — 
air  and  motion.  How  those  guns  roared  in  his 
ears.  He  had  heard  them  all  the  time,  unconscious- 
ly noted  the  increasing  ratio  of  the  Monitor's  fir- 
ing to  that  of  the  Merrimac's. 

"Messengers  !"  he  shouted,  suddenly.  "Are  there 
no  messengers  arriving?    Are  there  no  dispatches?" 

"They  have  been  coming  regularly,  sir,"  replied 
the  adjutant. 

"Send  every  man  in  quarters  to  the  Roads,  and 


THE  DEATH  WARRANT.  243 

let  them  bring  messages.  We  must  know  how  the 
battle  goes.  Do  you  hear,  Geary?  More  messen- 
gers to  the  Roads !" 

The  adjutant  went  out,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
twenty  extra  men  were  galloping  along  the  shell 
road  to  the  shore. 

When  returning  to  the  house,  Geary  came  upon 
Estelle.  She  approached  him  timidly,  and  asked 
him  for  a  pass  to  ride  beyond  the  gates.  The  guards 
had  turned  her  back  a  few  moments  before.  The 
Captain  tore  a  leaf  from  his  notebook,  and  hastily 
wrote  the  necessary  order.  Estelle  thanked  him, 
ran  to  the  stables,  mounted  Bay  Nellie,  and  galloped 
away.  She  had  gathered  from  the  conversation  of 
Mrs.  Poynter  and  the  Squire  that  General  Wool 
had  the  power  to  release  Virginia,  and  she  had  de- 
termined to  go  to  him  and  tell  of  her  affair  with 
Lafe,  and  of  his  taking  from  her  one  of  Virginia's 
pistols.  While  she  sincerely  mourned  the  death  of 
Harlan,  she  was  too  well  aware  of  Virginia's  many 
virtues  to  believe  her  guilty  of  his  death.  She  felt 
that  somewhere  there  had  been  a  mistake.  Not 
being  able  to  find  the  other  pistol,  she  intuitively 
connected  the  loss  with  the  tragedy.  This  much,  at 
least,  she  could  tell  to  Wool,  and  she  had  deter- 
mined to  do  so. 

During  Geary's  absence  Von  Benzinger  paced 

16 


244  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

the  room  like  a  caged  beast.  And  it  was  for  this  he 
had  toiled,  and  schemed  and  planned.  For  this  he 
had  sold  his  honor,  sacrificed  his  manhood,  trailed 
the  name  of  innocence  in  the  dust.  How  the  guns 
of  the  Monitor  roared.  What  a  voice  for  Richmond, 
for  Washington,  for  Paris,  for  the  world !  A  voice, 
proclaiming  his  defeat,  his  failure,  his  shame ! 
Messengers  came  bringing  dispatches  which  he  tore 
into  shreds  as  he  read  them — always  they  told  the 
same  story — the  defeat  of  the  Merrimac.  The  guns 
told  it,  those  on  the  Merrimac  growing  steadily  less, 
those  of  the  Monitor,  steady,  constant,  fulfilling 
their  destiny.  Would  it  never  end?  Let  the  Mer- 
rimac go  down  at  once.  Utter  and  final  defeat 
rather  than  this  fine-drawn  torture. 

Then  the  sudden  resolution  to  snatch  victory 
from  defeat,  to  shut  out  all  natural  feeling,  kill  every 
instinct  of  mercy,  to  crush  and  trample  on  every- 
thing; all,  rather  than  go  shamefaced  against  the 
world.  His  one  ambition  had  been  slain.  Let  it  go. 
In  other  fields  he  would  yet  succeed.  The  Merri- 
mac gone,  the  war  would  be  prolonged.  The  coun- 
try was  on  the  threshold  of  a  great  struggle.  His 
hand  was  on  the  latch  of  the  door  that  opened  to 
promotion.  McClellan  was  in  disfavor  at  the  Cap- 
itol. Changes  would  be  sudden  and  sweeping.  The 
field  of  battle  offered  new  glories,  new  triumphs. 


THE  DEATH  WARRANT.  245 

Perhaps  in  the  end  he  might  be  commander  of  all 
the  great  armies  of  the  North.  The  new  thought 
dazzled  him.  The  overpowering  egotism  of  the 
man  conquered,  and  reason  ruled  again.  One  thing 
he  lacked  to  make  his  position  again  secure — the 
approval  of  General  Wool  to  the  findings  of  the 
court.  If  that  came  his  course  was  decided.  The 
woman  should  die. 

When  Geary  returned,  the  General  sat  at  the 
table,  idly  drumming  on  the  papers  that  lay  open 
before  him. 

"Is  there  any  hope,  Geary?"  he  said,  in  a  hollow 
voice. 

"Hope,  General!  Of  what  are  you  thinking? 
There's  nothing  but  hope.  The  guns  tell  that.  The 
Monitor  is  firing  twice  to  the  Merrimac's  once. 
She  won't  have  a  gun  to  bear  in  half  an  hour. 
Ericsson  is  a  hero." 

Ericsson !  Von  Benzinger  started  as  though  the 
name  had  been  a  nettle,  and  stung  him. 

"The  messengers,  Geary?" 

"They  have  been  reinforced,  according  to  your 
instructions.  Those  previously  posted  have  been 
arriving  regularly." 

The  roar  of  the  Monitor's  gun,  a  single  shot  of 
the  Merrimac,  and  an  orderly  stepped  into  the  room, 
saluting. 


246  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Your  message,"  cried  the  General.  His  fingers 
trembled  as  he  took  the  paper.  "Merrlmac  drifting 
helplessly,"  he  read,  and  the  paper  slipped  from  his 
fingers  to  the  floor. 

The  sound  of  hoofs,  the  clatter  of  a  sword,  the 
hurried  tramp  of  feet,  and  Edwards  entered.  Gen- 
eral von  Benzinger  sprang  up. 

"The  papers  from  General  Wool,"  said  Edwards. 

As  the  General  reached  out  his  hand  and  took  the 
document,  a  great  shout  went  up  from  the  soldiers. 
In  volume  it  resembled  distant  thunder.  And 
through  it  all,  an  exultant  voice,  "The  Merrimac  is 
whipped.  She's  running  away  to  Norfolk.  Hurrah 
for  the  Monitor."  The  thunder  deepened  and 
swelled  anew. 

General  von  Benzinger's  face  darkened  at  the 
sound.  Then  he  broke  the  seal  of  the  document  in 
his  hand,  and  shook  it  out  to  its  full  length.  Across 
the  bottom  in  large  black  characters  was  written, 
"Approved  by  General  Wool." 

White  as  the  paper.  Von  Benzinger  stood  for  a 
moment,  hesitating.  Then  he  lifted  the  glass  of 
spirits  from  the  table,  straightened  his  shoulders, 
turned  to  the  Captain,  and  said,  with  the  old  ring 
in  his  voice: 

"Long  live  the  Union,  Captain  Geary !" 


MARTIAL  LAW.  247 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


MARTIAL  LAW. 

"Long  live  the  Union !"  The  words  were  Vir- 
ginia's real  death  sentence.  The  formal  sentence 
of  the  courtmartial  had  been  merely  provisional — 
having  efifect  only  if  Von  Benzinger  decided  to  re- 
main a  Federal.  Now  he  had  decided.  He  set 
down  the  empty  glass  and  gazed  into  it  with  eyes 
that  saw  a  thing  not  really  there.  Through  the 
soldiers'  cheers  outside  came  the  notes  of  mess-call. 
It  was  noon.  The  Monitor  was  far  across  the 
Roads,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Elizabeth,  where  she 
had  followed  her  defeated  foe. 

"It  must  be  done.  Captain  Geary,"  said  Von  Ben- 
zinger.   "Justice  must  be  done." 

"You  mean — the  prisoner?"  asked  Geary,  his 
face  clouding. 

Von  Benzinger  laid  his  hand  on  the  findings  of 
the  courtmartial.  "They  are  approved  by  General 
Wool,"  he  said.    "The  trial  being  in  the  field,  dur- 


248  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ing  military  and  naval  operations,  they  do  not  go 
to  Washington."  Noting  Geary's  expression,  he 
added,  "It  is  a  sad  and  terrible  duty,  Captain,  but 
a  soldier  cannot  flinch." 

"A  soldier  should  not  have  to  do  a  thing  like 
this !"  cried  Geary. 

"Ah,  Geary,  that  girl's  beauty  conceals  a  tiger's 
heart,"  replied  Von  Benzinger,  with  simulated 
melancholy.  "Think  of  her  influencing  her  lover 
to  corrupt  the  pilots.  Think  of  her  really  murder- 
ing the  dead  heroes  of  the  Cumberland  and  Con- 
gress. Think  of  her  shooting  Harlan  in  cold  blood 
so  Hamilton  could  wreck  the  Monitor.  A  man 
would  shrink  from  such  deeds.  Why,  then,  should 
her  sex  spare  her?" 

"It  shouldn't,  of  course,"  admitted  Geary.  "She 
must  die,  she  deserves  to  die.  But  a  woman — ugh ! 
If  it  could  only  be  done  some  other  way — not  in  the 
usual  way !" 

"I  greatly  wish  it  could !"  exclaimed  Von  Benzin- 
ger, sincerely.  "If  she  could  lie  down  and  open  a 
vein  and  sink  away  quietly — without  causing  com- 
ment— how  much  better,  how  much  better!  But 
she  would  not  do  it  herself — foolish  religious  no- 
tions, you  know ;  and  the  man  who  would  do  it  for 
her  would  be,  not  her  executioner,  but  her  mur- 
derer.   It  must  be  done  as  the  law  prescribes.    For 


MARTIAL  LAW.  249 

her  sex  the  law  makes  no  distinction."  The  Gen- 
eral paced  up  and  down,  steeling  himself  against  the 
human  nature  that  cried  out  to  him  to  turn  back 
from  this  legal  nmrder.  He  could  not  turn  back. 
There  was  no  way  he  could  prevent  the  execution  of 
Virginia  Eggleston  save  by  confessing  his  own 
guilt.  Even  if  he  refused  to  carry  out  the  sen- 
tence of  the  courtmartial,  it  would  be  carried  out 
by  Colonel  Middleton,  the  next  in  rank.  But  he 
could  not  confess,  he  would  not  refuse  to  carry  out 
the  sentence.  "Come,  come,"  he  exclaimed,  stop- 
ping in  his  walk.  "You  and  I  are  not  killing  the 
girl,  Geary,  but  martial  law.  The  law  must  be 
obeyed.  Whom  do  you  suggest  to  conduct  the 
execution  ?" 

"I  should  hate  to  suggest  anyone,"  said  Geary. 

"Did  not  Stanhope — that  Captain  in  the  Sixty- 
fourth — say  he  had  a  brother  on  the  Congress?" 

"His  brother  was  there,"  answered  Geary. 

"He  was  killed  after  the  ship  was  run  aground?" 

"He  was." 

"Captain  Stanhope  shall  conduct  the  execution  of 
his  brother's  murderess,"  said  the  General.  "Let 
it  be  in  the  north  corner  of  the  grounds.  Inform 
Stanhope.  Explain  why  he  is  chosen.  Let  him 
report  here  immediately  with  his  company  and  an- 
other, both  under  his  command.     Let  him  station 


250  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

one  platoon  at  the  negro  quarters,  another  at  the 
main  gate.  Place  another  in  open  order  along  the 
front  wall.  Place  a  squad  between  the  house  and 
the  appointed  spot.  Let  no  one  approach.  For  the 
firing  squad,  let  him  pick  out  men  who  obey  or- 
ders." Von  Benzinger  paused  a  moment  after 
rushing  through  these  orders.  "And,  Geary.  As 
my  adjutant,  it  is  your  duty  to  read  to  the  prisoner 
the  decision  and  the  sentence  of  the  court." 

Geary  turned  pale  and  was  about  to  protest. 

"That  is  all,  Geary,"  said  Von  Benzinger,  cut- 
ting him  short.  "The  execution  will  proceed  at 
once." 

The  Captain  saluted  and  turned  to  go. 

"Do  not  forget  the  document.  Captain  Geary," 
said  Von  Benzinger.  "You  will  find  what  you  want 
on  the  last  page  and  a  half." 

The  Captain  took  up  the  official  paper  and  went 
to  his  room,  with  a  heavy  heart.  It  was  right,  he 
felt,  but  it  was  horrible.  He  wrote  the  order  to 
Captain  Stanhope  and  dispatched  an  orderly.  He 
took  up  the  findings  of  the  court  and  turned  to  that 
reiterated  "guilty"  of  the  summing  up.  Silently  he 
read  the  sentence,  the  signatures  of  the  court  and 
of  the  Generals  commanding.  The  soldier  shud- 
dered— braced  himself — and  stood  up. 

Von  Benzinger,  left  alone  in  his  room,  sat  down. 


MARTIAL  LAW.  251 

stood  up,  paced  back  and  forth,  sat  down  again. 
He  saw  Geary  pass  through  the  hall  and  heard  hirri 
go  up  the  stairs.  He  heard  him  speak  to  the  sen- 
try, the  sentry's  reply,  the  knock,  and  the  girl's  an- 
swer. Then  she  said  something  to  Geary — the  voice 
was  gentle  and  clear,  but  Von  Benzinger  could  not 
make  out  the  words.  He  heard  Geary  mumble 
something,  and  then  his  voice,  reading  unsteadily. 
Von  Benzinger  knew  those  words.  The  recurring 
"guilty,"  "guilty,"  "guilty,"  came  to  his  ears  like 
the  tolling  of  a  bell.  The  voice  went  on  through 
charge  and  sentence  to  the  end — "approved  by  Gen- 
eral Wool."    Then  came  silence — absolute  silence. 

"Would  she  not  speak?"  wondered  Von  Benzin- 
ger— "would  she  not  cry  out,  or  sob,  or  scream? 
Why  must  Geary  leave  open  that  door  up  there?" 
Von  Benzinger  made  a  violent  movement  and 
pushed  his  own  door  shut.  It  slammed,  and  the 
noise  made  him  start.  The  door  being  shut,  he 
wondered  if  that  terrible  silence  up  stairs  were  still 
unbroken.  He  turned  the  knob,  made  an  opening 
of  an  inch  or  two,  and  listened.  Then  her  door 
closed  softly,  as  men  close  the  doors  of  chambers 
where  the  dead  lie.  Geary  tiptoed  down  the  stairs. 
Von  Benzinger  shut  his  door  and  heard  Geary  en- 
ter his  own  room. 

"Can  I  endure  this?"  groaned  Von  Benzinger. 


252  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

The  better  side  of  his  nature — the  side  he  kept 
chained  down  because  it  hampered  him  and  tried 
to  hold  him  from  his  purpose — rose  in  revolt 
against  him.  Should  he  now  postpone  the  execu- 
tion till  tomorrow?  Should  he  steal  ofif  tonight  to 
the  Confederates,  and  send  back  word  that  Vir- 
ginia Eggleston  was  innocent?  Yes,  and  then  the 
world  would  know  that  he,  Hugo  von  Benzinger, 
was  a  traitor — that  he  had  bribed  pilots,  grounded 
ships,  accused  the  innocent,  and  to  shield  himself 
had  only  failed  to  murder  a  helpless  woman  because 
his  will  was  weak.  Had  his  ship  won,  the  South 
would  have  given  him  rich  rewards,  and  high  com- 
mand, and  no  one  need  have  known  that  he  had 
done  worse  than  offer  his  plans  to  the  South  be- 
cause the  North  refused  them.  His  success  would 
have  blinded  men  to  the  dubious  means  by  which 
he  had  achieved  it.  But  now  his  ship  was  reported 
to  be  in  a  sinking  condition,  the  Confederates  owed 
him  nothing — their  disappointment  today  was  as 
great  as  their  high  hopes  of  3^esterday.  And  when 
the  black  schemes  of  the  last  twelve  hours  came  out, 
as  out  they  must,  should  he  confess,  the  Southern- 
ers would  despise  him.  Here  he  was  safe.  Here 
he  had  honor  still  and  a  chance  to  retrieve  past 
failure.  And  who  was  to  blame  for  that  failure? 
Why,  she,  up  stairs,  who,  with  hidden  scorn,  had 


MARTIAL  LAW.  2S3 

fanned  his  vanity,  and  wormed  his  secret  out,  and 
turned  it  against  him.  She  who  was,  therefore, 
suffering  in  her  mind  the  pangs  of  approaching 
death.  She  who  loved  Hamilton — Hamilton,  who 
had  helped  to  overthrow  the  power  of  the  Merri- 
mac.  Should  he  release  from  his  grasp  and  make 
happy  that  favored  lover — that  skillful  pilot — that 
man  who  had  beaten  him  so  far  in  love  and  war? 
No,  they  deserved  to  die,  and  die  they  should,  and 
they  being  dead,  he  would  be  safe. 

Someone  was  entering  the  hall,  asking  the  house 
servant  for  Mrs.  Poynter.  Presently  the  widow 
came  down  stairs.  Von  Benzinger  opened  his 
door  quietly  after  she  had  passed  through  the  hall. 
Geary's  door  was  closed. 

"Oh,  Squire !''  he  heard  her  say,  "did  you  see 
Hamilton,  did  you  tell  him  our  awful  trouble — what 
did  he  do?" 

"I  saw  him,  Mrs.  Poynter,"  answered  the  Squire, 
in  a  hopeless  voice.  "I  told  him  everything.  Mr. 
Willis  was  there,  too  ?" 

"Where?"  demanded  the  widow. 

"On  the  Monitor.  Mr.  Willis  said  he  shot  Har- 
lan." 

"Willis?  Willis  shot  Harlan!  I  knew  Virginia 
didn't  do  it — even  accidentally." 

"Willis !"  exclaimed  Von  Benzinger  to  himself. 


254  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

His  alarm  was  but  momentary.  "Pshaw !  he  cannot 
read  the  cipher,"  he  thought. 

"Mr.  Willis  had  dispatches  of  Von  Benzinger," 
went  on  Henderson. 

"S'sh !"  warned  Mrs.  Poynter,  and  for  a  few  mo- 
ments Von  Benzinger  could  not  catch  the  Squire's 
sentence.  Then  came  an  exclamation  from  Mrs. 
Poynter. 

"Struck  Willis !    Was  he  killed  ?" 

"It  struck  his  boat,  anyhow,  Mrs.  Poynter.  I 
was  too  far  to  see,  but  I'm  afraid  he's  killed,  Mrs. 
Poynter,  I'm  afraid  he's  killed." 

There  was  a  rustling  of  skirts  and  a  little  choking 
sound. 

"Earl  was  just  wild  when  he  saw  Willis  sink," 
went  on  Henderson ;  "he  was  just  wild.  He  was 
taking  off  his  things  to  jump  overboard  and  swim 
ashore." 

"Squire  Henderson!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Poynter. 
"Why  didn't  you  go  back  after  him  ?" 

There  was  an  uneasy  pause,  the  General  smiled 
grimly  as  he  pictured  the  flying  shells.  "It  wa'n't 
no  use,  Mrs.  Poynter.  I  would  'a  gone  back,  but 
an  officer  pointed  a  pistol  at  Hamilton  an'  made 
him  stay !" 

"I  don't  believe  it !"  cried  Mrs.  Poynter.  She 
burst  into  a  tirade  of  abuse,  which  Von  Benzinger 


MARTIAL  LAW.  2SS 

was  not  interested  in,  and  he  quietly  closed  his  door. 
The  Squire  went  on  to  tell  how  he  had  landed  and 
gone  back  along  the  shore,  but  had  seen  no  sign  of 
Willis;  how  he  had  gone  to  the  fort,  but  failed  to 
secure  an  audience  with  Wool. 

Von  Benzinger  chuckled  with  satisfaction.  He 
must  avoid  Mrs.  Poynter,  or  she  would  deluge  him 
with  this  new  evidence  of  Virginia's  innocence — 
evidence  which,  thanks  to  the  Merrimac's  lucky 
shot,  was  at  the  bottom  of  Hampton  Roads.  "The 
iron  dragon's  dead,"  mused  Von  Benzinger,  "but 
still  my  star  is  strong — my  star  is  strong."  What 
luck,  what  superb  luck,  that  the  man  who  killed 
Harlan  was  out  of  the  way.  And  that  cipher,  too — 
of  course,  they  could  not  have  read  it,  but,  now, 
doubtless,  it  had  gone  down  with  Willis,  and  it  was 
much  better  to  have  eighteen  feet  of  salt  water  over 
it.  And  Hamilton's  attempt  at  desertion!  That 
settles  Monsieur  Hamilton.  Nothing  could  resist 
such  luck  as  his,  combined  with  such  skill.  The  war 
would  be  long,  now  that  the  Merrimac  was  gone, 
and  he  might  rise  to  the  command  of  all  the  forces 
of  the  North. 

Someone  knocked.  Was  it  Mrs.  Poynter  ?  How 
should  he  get  rid  of  her? 

"Come !"  he  called. 

It    was    Geary.     He    looked    like  a  sick    man. 


256  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"There  is  one  thing,  General,"  he  said,  "ought  I 
not  to  inform  Mrs.  Poynter?  She  is  now  in  the  sit- 
ting room." 

"No,  no,  no,"  answered  Von  Benzinger,  impa- 
tiently, "she  will  cry,  she  will  talk.  Refuse  her  ad- 
mittance to  me.  Tell  her  I'm  busy.  Put  her  off. 
It  will  soon  be  too  late  to  talk.  Thank  fortune  that 
the  other  has  so  far  kept  still." 

"I  will  never  forget  Virginia  Eggleston's  look," 
said  Geary,  solemnly,  "never  to  my  dying  day.  It 
was  worse  than  ten  thousand  words — the  most 
heart-breaking  look  I  ever  saw  on  a  human  face." 

"You  must  keep  your  mind  from  brooding  on 
this  subject,  Captain  Geary,"  replied  Von  Benzin- 
ger.   "Remember  her  crimes." 

"I  cannot,  I  cannot,"  answered  Geary. 

His  emotion  troubled  Von  Benzinger,  who  could 
not,  with  all  his  will-power,  quench  the  unwelcome 
pity  and  remorse  that  rose  within  him.  She  was  so 
mute,  so  helpless.  If  she  had  only  accused  him,  de- 
nounced him,  hurled  invectives  at  him,  he  could 
have  gloried  in  her  overthrow.  If  only  Hamilton 
were  there  with  her  to  struggle  and  suffer  man- 
fashion,  not  in  this  heart-breaking  silence.  But  af- 
ter the  battle  they  would  take  Hamilton  from  the 
Monitor  and  put  him  in  irons. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.     It  was  an  or- 


MARTIAL  LAW.  257 

derly  announcing  Captain  Stanhope.  The  Captain 
entered.  He  was  a  tall,  grave  man,  who  carried 
his  hat  in  his  hand  and  bowed  stiffly. 

"General  von  Benzinger,"  he  said,  "I  have 
brought  my  company  and  another.  I  have  not  yet 
disposed  them  according  to  your  orders.  Before  I 
do  so,  I  wish  to  say  that  I  have  never  flinched  from 
my  duty  as  a  soldier,  but  I  beg  you  will  choose 
someone  else  for  this.  My  brother  died  for  his 
country.  No  doubt  the  courtmartial  is  right.  The 
woman  to  be  shot  must  have  committed  the  dread- 
ful crime  which  cost  so  many  lives.  But  she  is  now 
to  suffer,  not  our  vengeance,  but  our  justice.  And 
the  assignment  of  this  duty  to  me  adds  to  the  exe- 
cution the  element  of  revenge.  Again,  sir,  I  re- 
spectfully request  to  be  reHeved." 

"Because  you  do  not  flinch  from  a  disagreeable 
duty,  sir,"  replied  Von  Benzinger,  "you  are  the  man 
for  this.  Your  idea  of  justice  is  very  correct.  Hav- 
ing that  idea,  it  is  just  that  you  should  do  this  thing. 
You  have  no  choice  in  the  matter,  therefore  you 
have  no  responsibility.  You  will  carry  out  your 
instructions  at  once,  Captain  Stanhope.  Captain 
Geary  will  show  you  the  documents,  by  authority 
of  which  I  give  you  this  order." 

Captain  Stanhope  examined  the  findings,  re- 
turned  to    his    command,    and    disposed    his    men 


258  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

about  the  grounds,  according  to  Von  Benzinger's 
orders.  The  soldiers  off  duty  in  the  near-by  regi- 
ments got  wind  that  something  of  importance  was 
about  to  happen  at  headquarters,  and  in  the  woods 
between  the  house  and  the  river  they  came  as  close 
as  the  numerous  guards  would  let  them.  The 
guards  had  orders  to  let  no  one  enter  the  grounds 
or  linger  on  the  road  outside  until  the  execution 
was  over. 

It  was  half-past  twelve. 

The  Monitor  was  dropping  anchor  by  the  Minne- 
sota. 


JUSTICE.  259 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


JUSTICE. 


The  sergeant  of  the  firing  squad  had  loaded 
twelve  pieces.  Some  contained  powder  and  ball, 
others  powder  only.  No  man  would  know  whether 
the  pressure  of  his  trigger  had  contributed  to  the 
death  of  the  prisoner.  The  men  of  the  squad  filed 
past  the  sergeant,  who  handed  each  one  a  mus- 
ket. They  then  fell  in  and  the  sergeant 
marched  them  to  their  place.  This  was  two 
hundred  paces  behind  the  house,  on  the 
side  of  the  grounds  away  from  the  negro  cabins 
and  the  stables.  They  faced,  at  fifteen  paces,  the 
white  stone  wall  which  separated  the  enclosure 
about  the  house  from  the  open  fields  behind  it.  To 
their  left  ran  a  stake  and  rider  rail  fence,  of  which 
the  angles  were  full  of  wild  shrubs  and  vines.  Be- 
yond the  fence  were  noble  woods,  deep  in  which 
were  the  Union  outposts.  Fruit  trees  screened  the 
spot  from  the  view  of  the  passers  on  the  Newport 

17 


260  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

road.  Only  from  the  front  gate  itself  could  the 
place  be  seen,  and  the  guard  there  would  allow  no 
one  to  stop  an  instant.  A  grapevine  arbor  and  oak 
trees  cut  off  the  view  of  the  house  from  the  angle 
of  the  rail  fence  and  the  stone  wall  where  the  pris- 
oner was  to  stand.  The  long,  blue-grass  in  that 
corner  was  dustless,  fresh  and  sweet. 

The  squad  waited.  Captain  Stanhope  was  the 
only  officer  present.  The  Chaplain  was  with  the 
prisoner.  When  she  had  prayed  with  him,  then  she 
would  come. 

From  the  house  came  a  woman's  wail  of  anguish 
that  made  men  stop  their  ears.  The  cry  was  re- 
echoed from  the  cabins  where  the  negroes  huddled, 
terrified  by  the  platoon  drawn  up  in  front  of  them, 
and  the  dreadful  preparation  going  on.  The  house 
door  opened.  Two  soldiers  stepped  out.  Then 
came  Virginia,  deathly  pale  and  dressed  in  black; 
behind  her,  two  more  soldiers,  then  the  Chaplain 
and  Surgeon  Cuthbertson.  In  wild  agitation  Mrs. 
Poynter  and  Henderson  followed,  but  were  stopped 
by  the  guard  outside,  and  ordered  back  into  the 
house.  Virginia  stopped  between  the  soldiers  and 
looked  back. 

"Good-bye,  Cora,"  she  said. 

Again  that  cry  rang  out,  and  Mrs.  Poynter  fell 
insensible  on  the  gallery  floor.     The  Squire  bent 


JUSTICE.  261 

over  her,  the  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks. 
A  choking  sob  shook  Virginia  as  she  turned  away, 
but  her  eyes  fell  on  the  waiting  squad,  and  the  white 
wall  where  she  would  stand,  and  the  grass  where 
she  would  fall,  quiet  at  last,  with  no  more  pain. 
The  infinite  calmness  of  death  swept  through  her 
mind,  soothing  and  strengthening.  This  thing  was 
certain,  immediate — there  was  no  more  hope  to 
torture  her — no  hope  of  Willis  nor  of  Earl.  If  they 
came,  they  would  come  too  late.  Firmly  she  walked 
to  the  appointed  place,  and  stood  with  bowed  head, 
waiting.  In  the  black  dress  her  figure  was  clearly 
marked  against  the  white  wall.  A  big  soldier  in 
the  squad  looked  at  her  and  thought.  He  grew 
dizzy,  and  fell  like  a  log.  His  musket  clattered  on 
the  ground;  two  men  fell  out  and  carried  him  over 
near  the  rail  fence.    The  big  man  had  caused  delay. 

Someone  near  was  clumsily  preparing  a  bandage 
for  her  eyes — perhaps  it  was  Major  Cuthbertson. 

"Oh,  please  be  quick,"  she  said.  "I  cannot  bear 
it  long." 

What  was  that  stir  at  the  front  gate?  Virginia 
looked  up.  Through  the  one  break  in  the  trees 
she  caught  sight  of  a  man  on  horseback.  Her  heart 
gave  a  great  leap.  Was  it  reprieve  ?  Was  it  Earl  ? 
The  man  was  hatless  and  coatless.  He  spoke  to 
the  guard  in  front  of  the  closed  gates,  the  guard 


262  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

shook  his  head  and  brought  his  bayonet  to  the 
charge.  The  man  said  something  else,  the  guard 
hesitated,  came  to  port  arms  and  called  the  cor- 
poral. Oh,  bitterness  !  The  man  was  going  away ; 
he  had  turned  his  horse  off  into  the  woods.  No, 
he  was  dashing  back — across  the  road — horse  and 
rider  rose  over  the  wall — they  had  cleared  it — no, 
the  spikes  struck  the  animal's  hind  legs — horse  and 
rider  rolled  on  the  ground,  the  horse  could  not  rise. 
But  the  man  was  up  and  was  running  toward  the 
house.  Henderson  was  calling  and  motioning  to 
him,  pointing  in  her  direction.  Two  or  three 
guards  at  the  house  stood  in  his  path,  with  their 
bayonets  ready.  Everyone  near  Virginia  turned, 
expecting  to  see  the  man  halted  by  these  guards. 
But  the  man  said  something  to  them,  which  made 
them  hesitate  an  instant,  and  in  that  instant  the 
man  dashed  past,  and  came  straight  on,  running  to- 
ward her,  toward  her.  It  was  Earl,  it  was  Earl,  and 
Virginia,  calling  out  his  name  in  a  great  cry  of  joy, 
sprang  toward  him,  and  before  the  men  about  her 
could  prevent,  she  was  clasped  in  his  powerful  arms, 
and  felt  that  she  would  not  die.  Men  threw  them- 
selves upon  him,  but  he  pushed  them  off.  "Wait !" 
he  exclaimed.  "The  execution  must  stop !  The 
woman  is  innocent !"    The  men  heard  authority  in 


JUSTICE.  263 

the  voice,  fell  back  a  little,  and  looked  at  Captain 
Stanhope. 

"By  whose  order  do  you  come  here?"  asked  the 
Captain.    "Who  are  you?" 

"I  am  Hamilton,  Lieutenant,  United  States 
Navy.    I  know  this  woman  is  innocent." 

"Do  you  say  this  upon  your  own  responsibility? 
Have  you  nothing  from  the  proper  authorities  to 
prevent  this  execution?" 

"Good  God,  man,"  exclaimed  Hamilton.  "Had 
I  waited  to  see  the  proper  authorities,  where  would 
the  girl  be  now?" 

"I  cannot  disobey  my  instructions  upon  so  flimsy 
an  argument  as  this,"  said  Captain  Stanhope,  rig- 
idly. "How  do  I  know  you  are  a  Lieutenant  in 
the  Navy  ?" 

"Because  I  tell  you  so,"  flashed  Hamilton,  who 
was  not  used  to  having  men  doubt  his  word. 

"Well,  suppose  you  are?  What  authority  has  a 
Lieutenant  in  the  Navy  to  interrupt  a  military  exe- 
cution ?" 

"I  tell  you,  because  the  woman  is  innocent." 

"You  have  no  authority  to  tell  me  anything,  and 
I  have  none  to  listen  to  you,"  replied  Stanhope. 
"The  execution  will  proceed." 

"The  execution  will  not  proceed,"  came  the  an- 
swer, so  quick,  so  decisive,  that  the  soldiers  stood 


264  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

staring,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  This  unarmed 
man,  whose  face  was  black  with  burned  powder, 
who  wore  no  insignia  of  rank  upon  his  person,  had 
by  sheer  will  power  broken  the  strong  bonds  of 
military  discipline.  The  twelve  soldiers  whose  or- 
ders were  to  shoot  the  prisoner  became  a  jury  be- 
fore which  Hamilton  had  secured  for  her  a  new 
trial. 

"So  this  is  Lieutenant  Hamilton !"  The  group 
of  men  started  and  turned  toward  the  new — the 
mocking  voice.  It  was  Von  Benzinger,  who  stood 
coolly  eyeing  the  powerful  sailor.  He  had  been 
waiting  in  his  room  for  the  sound  of  the  volley 
which  should  send  the  shattering  bullets  through 
the  beautiful  girlish  figure  he  had  loved.  Not  hear- 
ing the  volley,  he  came  out,  and  saw  that  something 
unexpected  was  interrupting  the  execution.  Di- 
vining the  arrival  of  Hamilton,  he  hailed  it  with  de- 
light— it  meant  a  struggle — a  battle — a  victory  for 
him.  It  was  far  less  revolting — and  here  were  both 
his  enemies  together  in  his  power. 

"Von  Benzinger!"  exclaimed  Virginia. 

At  the  name,  the  light  of  hatred  kindled  in  Ham- 
ilton's eyes.  A  wild  impulse  seized  him  to  hurl 
himself  upon  Von  Benzinger  and  kill  him  with  his 
weaponless  hands.  But  such  a  movement  would 
precipitate  a  dozen  armed  men  upon  him,  and  even 


JUSTICE.  265 

could  he  instantly  kill  Von  Benzinger,  how  would 
that  help  ?  He  himself  would  probably  die  the  next 
instant,  and  leave  Virginia  to  her  doom.  No,  he 
must  win  these  men,  he  must  convince  them  of  Von 
Benzinger's  guilt.  What  then?  What  if  he  did 
convince  them?  He  had  no  tangible  proof.  A 
second  trial,  could  he  secure  it,  would  bring  out 
nothing  new.  The  desperateness  of  the  situation 
flashed  through  his  brain  in  that  one  meeting  with 
his  enemy's  cool,  well-assured  eyes. 

"Lieutenant  Hamilton,"  repeated  Von  Benzin- 
ger. "The  naval  officer  who  hired  Confederate  pi- 
lots for  the  fleet." 

A  stir  of  indignation  started  among  the  men,  but 
Hamilton's  fiery  answer  rang  above  it — the  first 
words  he  had  ever  spoken  to  Von  Benzinger. 

"You  lie,  you  hound !  You  did  that  thing  your- 
self. And  then  you  put  your  guilt  upon  a  woman, 
an  innocent  woman." 

Von  Benzinger's  words  were  plausible,  Hamil- 
ton's incredible,  and  yet  the  sailor's  voice  was  not 
that  of  a  man  lying.  The  big  man  who  had  fainted, 
revived  and  sat  up,  listening.  The  whole  squad 
waited  for  Von  Benzinger's  reply. 

"The  courtmartial,  not  I,  found  her  guilty,"  he 
said.  "And,  Monsieur  Hamilton,  the  same  court- 
martial  recommended  your  immediate  arrest  and 


266  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

trial  for  treason.  The  woman  is  but  your  accom- 
plice.   Is  that  so,  Major  Cuthbertson  ?" 

"It  is,"  replied  the  surgeon. 

Von  Benzinger's  case  was  almost  won.  At  that 
moment  the  men  would  have  obeyed  the  order  to 
shoot  Hamilton  down. 

"Yes,  your  courtmartial  said  so,"  answered  Ham- 
ilton. "They  acted  on  such  evidence  as  the  note 
you  forged — the  note  from  Buchanan  to  me.  That 
forgery  did  not  reach  its  destination,  but  you  could 
easily  make  others." 

"Who  had  that  note?"  asked  Von  Benzinger. 
Then  he  added  quickly — "which  was  not  forged." 

"Waterloo  Willis,  of  the  secret  service,  shot  Har- 
lan and  took  from  him  the  cipher  you  sent  Bu- 
chanan. In  it,  you  remember,  you  told  the  Merri- 
mac's  Captain  to  board  and  lash  the  Monitor,  cover 
her  turret  with  tarpaulins  and  throw  in  hand  gren- 
ades." The  stir  of  indignation  veered  and  turned 
against  Von  Benzinger.  Major  Cuthbertson  looked 
surprised. 

For  an  instant,  only.  Von  Benzinger  looked  anx- 
ious. Then  he  laughed.  "Waterloo  Willis,"  he  re- 
peated. "Did  he  take  with  him  this  queer  dispatch 
of  mine  to  the  bottom  of  Hampton  Roads?  It  is 
very  easy  to  say  what  papers  were  in  his  pockets — 
but   who   believes   such   tales?"      Von   Benzinger 


JUSTICE.  267 

gloated  over  Hamilton's  expression  of  discomfiture. 
Earl  still  had  a  lingering  hope  that  Willis  had  es- 
caped. Had  this  omniscient  schemer  not  known  of 
Willis'  death,  the  sudden  revelation  of  the  cipher's 
interpretation  would  have  shaken  him  badly. 

"Unfortunately  for  you,  General  von  Benzin- 
ger,"  said  Earl,  in  desperation,  "Willis  gave  me 
that  dispatch  before  his  boat  was  sunk." 

For  an  instant  Von  Benzinger  quailed.  The  jury, 
watching  him,  swung  clear  over  to  Hamilton's  side. 
But  Von  Benzinger  had  noted  the  subtle  note  of 
falsehood  in  the  sailor's  voice.  Quick  as  a  flash  he 
staked  his  game  upon  that  chance.  "Where  is  it, 
then?"  he  said,  defiantly.  Earl  did  not  think  he 
would  have  courage  to  say  that. 

"It  is  not  here,"  he  was  forced  to  answer,  and  in- 
stantly he  lost  far  more  than  he  had  gained. 

Von  Benzinger  pressed  his  advantage.  "What 
monstrosities  you  speak !"  he  exclaimed.  "That 
you  possess  such  a  paper  and  do  not  bring  it  here  is 
incredible — childish !"  He  saw  that  the  iron  was 
hot.    "Captain  Stanhope,"  he  said — 

"Soldiers  of  the  North !"  It  v/as  Virginia  who 
spoke.  "This  man,  your  General,  made  iron  ships 
in  France.     Is  that  not  true?" 

"What  of  it?"  said  Von  Benzinger,  impatiently. 


268  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Cuthbertson  knew  of  it,  therefore  it  could  not  be 
denied. 

"He  offered  to  the  North  plans  for  a  Merrimac — 
the  North  refused.  Therefore,  he  built  the  Merri- 
mac for  the  South.  Therefore,  he  bribed  the  pilots 
to  run  the  ships  aground.  Last  night,  when  his 
ship  was  victorious,  he  told  me  all,  because  I  was  a 
Confederate.  When  the  Monitor  came  he  plotted 
to  accuse  her  pilot,  Hamilton,  so  the  Merrimac 
might  win.  Confederate  though  I  am,  I  tried  to 
warn  that  pilot,  and  for  that  I  am  to  die.  I  did  not 
plot  to  ground  the  ships.  I  did  not  kill  Harlan.  I 
knew  that  General  von  Benzinger  was  a  traitor, 
and  that  knowledge  is  my  only  crime."  These  clear 
and  solemn  words  came  to  the  men  like  perfect 
truth.  Ah,  why  could  Virginia  not  have  spoken 
when  alone  in  that  courtmartial  as  she  spoke  now  in 
helping  Earl? 

"WilHs  killed  Harlan,"  put  in  Hamilton.  "He 
killed  him  because  Harlan  was  plotting  with  Von 
Benzinger  to  accuse  me  and  so  leave  the  Monitor 
without  a  pilot.  Willis  took  from  Harlan,  Von  Ben- 
zinger's  treasonable  cipher  to  the  Merrimac." 

"The  courtmartial  decided  that  Virginia  Eggles- 
ton  killed  Harlan,"  said  Von  Benzinger,  cold  and 
strong.  "She  took  from  him  my  dispatch  accus- 
ing you.     Had  not  that  been  done,  you  would  be 


JUSTICE.  269 

now  in  irons."  Von  Benzinger  determined  to  end 
the  strange  scene  with  which  he  had  been  merely 
amusing  himself.  "How  do  you  account  for  the 
fact,  Lieutenant  Hamilton,  that,  Just  before  the  bat- 
tle, you  tried  to  swim  ashore  from  the  Monitor  and 
were  forced,  with  leveled  pistol,  to  remain  and  pilot 
her?" 

"Because,  for  an  instant,  when  I  heard  that  you 
were  foully  murdering  this  innocent  girl,  I  deter- 
mined to  come  here  at  any  cost  and  save  her.  I  did 
iiot  leave  my  ship — I  suffered  the  tortures  of  the 
damned — I  piloted  the  Monitor,  and  all  men  could 
see  if  it  was  a  traitor's  piloting." 

"A  pistol  muzzle  is  sometimes  an  excellent  anti- 
dote for  treason,"  sneered  Von  Benzinger.  "Often 
a  musket  is  equally  effective.  Captain  Stanhope, 
we  will  try  a  little  of  this  medicine.  Proceed  with 
your  duty."'  The  swift  and  bitter  argument  for 
Virginia's  life  had  been  a  drawn  battle.  To  over- 
come the  soldiers'  discipline,  Hamilton  knew  that 
he  required  a  complete  victory.  He  knew  now  that 
the  soldiers  would  obey  their  officers. 

"Sergeant !"  called  Stanhope.  Listening  to  the 
debate,  the  squad  had  lost  its  formation.  No  one 
was  in  his  proper  place.  The  Captain  turned  to  look 
for  his  sergeant.  Suddenly  he  felt  his  sword  fly 
from  its  scabbard,  and  caught  at  it — too  late.    Ham- 


270  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

ilton  had  it,  and  recovering  from  his  rush,  the  Lieu- 
tenant turned  toward  Von  Benzinger — desperate, 
all  hope  gone,  but  determined  that  this  man  should 
die. 

"Shoot  him !"  cried  Von  Benzinger,  at  the  same 
time  drawing  his  sword.  One  of  the  soldiers 
obeyed.  He  quickly  raised  his  piece,  covered  Ham- 
ilton, who  was  at  that  instant  motionless,  not  ten 
feet  away — and  fired.  There  was  a  roar — a  puff  of 
red-lit  smoke,  enveloping  the  Lieutenant,  and  the 
men  waited  to  see  him  fall.  But  out  of  the  smoke  he 
sprang — the  powder  had  burned  his  clothing. 
The  charge  in  that  piece  was  blank.  With  fury  he 
rushed  upon  Von  Benzinger — the  two  were  so  close 
no  man  could  fire.  Von  Benzinger  was  an  expert 
and  fearless  swordsman,  but  he  knew  Hamilton  had 
the  advantage  of  utter  desperation.  Therefore  he 
had  called  upon  the  soldiers  to  shoot ;  therefore, 
when  the  shot  was  vain,  he  stood  to  his  guard  with 
utmost  wariness.  The  sailor  Vv^ould  have  had  an  ad- 
vantage in  his  prodigious  length  of  arm,  but  he  was 
not  upon  the  defensive.  Using  the  merely  decora- 
tive officer's  sword  as  a  cutlass,  he  hurled  his  body 
straight  upon  his  enemy's,  sweeping  his  sword 
aside  as  he  came.  Had  he  missed,  he  would  himself 
have  been  impaled.  The  stroke  snapped  his  own 
blade  a  foot  from  the  hilt,  at  the  point  where  the 


JUSTICE.  271 

two  swords  met.  Hamilton's  left  arm  clinched  Von 
Benzinger,  and  they  came  breast  to  breast.  Von 
Benzinger's  right  hand  shot  far  back  of  him,  short- 
ening his  sword  and  trying  to  bring  his  point 
against  Hamilton's  body.  Hamilton  did  the  same, 
but  he  had  to  recover  from  the  stroke  which, 
sweeping  Von  Benzinger's  sword  to  the  right,  had 
carried  his  own  far  to  the  left.  Von  Benzinger's 
thrust  came  first,  while  Hamilton  was  drawing  back 
his  hand.  As  the  blow  started,  Hamilton  bent  to 
the  right,  pressed  his  left  elbow  out  against  Von 
Benzinger's  sword  arm,  and  so  changed  the  course 
of  the  point  that  it  merely  grazed  the  skin.  With 
terrific  force  Hamilton  plunged  his  broken  blade 
clean  to  the  hilt  in  Von  Benzinger's  body.  The 
General  gave  one  gasp,  the  life  went  out  of  his 
limbs,  and,  as  he  sank  down,  Hamilton  wrenched 
out  his  sword.  Von  Benzinger  fell  face  down,  and 
his  gleaming  hair  lay  in  the  dustless  blue-grass. 

For  a  moment  no  one  spoke  or  stirred.  The 
whole  thing — the  snatching  of  the  sword,  the 
musket  shot,  the  miracle  of  Hamilton's  escape,  the 
cutlass  stroke  and  the  deadly  thrust,  had  been  the 
matter  of  a  very  few  seconds. 

The  surgeon's  instinct  was  the  first  to  produce 
action.  Major  Cuthbertson,  who  had  come  here 
expecting  to  pronounce  Virginia's  life  extinct,  knelt 


272  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

by  Von  Benzinger,  and  looked  at  the  location  of  the 
wound.    One  look  sufficed. 

The  sergeant,  recovering  his  wits,  snatched  up  a 
musket,  determined  that  there  should  be  no  more 
trifling  with  this  naval  man. 

"Wait !"  commanded  Captain  Stanhope.  The 
sergeant  stopped. 

"Major  Cuthbertson,"  said  Stanhope.  "Is  there 
anything  we  can  do?" 

"General  von  Benzinger  is  dead,"  replied  Cuth- 
bertson. 

"Lieutenant  Hamilton,"  said  Stanhope.  "What- 
ever be  the  truth  of  this  matter,  I  place  you  under 
arrest  on  the  charge  of  murder.  Will  you  submit, 
or  shall  my  men  use  force?  There  are  some  guns 
here  with  bullets  in  them." 

"Captain  Stanhope,"  answered  Earl,  "you  may 
riddle  me  with  bullets,  but  I  will  not  stand  by  and 
see  this  woman  shot." 

"Captain  Stanhope,"  said  Major  Cuthbertson,  "I 
have  no  power  to  countermand  your  orders,  but  this 
whole  scene  has  convinced  me  that  there  is  a  side 
of  this  wretched  business  which  is  not  yet  known. 
If  Lieutenant  Hamilton  will  submit  to  arrest  and 
trial,  you  can  well  afford  to  await  further  orders  be- 
fore you  shoot  the  girl." 

"Do  you  agree  to  this.  Lieutenant  Hamilton?" 
asked  the  Captain. 

"It  is  all  that  I  have  fought  for,"  answered  Earl. 


"Is  General  Wool  in?"    The  questioner  was  hatless  and  coatless. 


SECRET  SERVICE. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


SECRET  SERVICE. 

"Is  General  Wool  in?"  The  questioner  was  hat- 
less  and  coatless.  His  blue  shirt  and  gray  trousers 
were  grimy  and  dusty.  The  trim  orderly  could  not 
repress  a  look  of  amused  scorn  as  he  ran  his  eye 
slowly  from  the  man's  soiled  boots  to  his  uncombed 
hair. 

"Did  you  expect  to  see  him?"  There  was  irony 
in  the  voice  and  attitude  of  the  sentinel.  Here  was 
an  opportunity  to  "get  even"  for  past  indignities 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  his  superiors. 

"Damn  your  impudence,  yes.    Is  he  in?" 

The  smart  orderly  frowned,  and  drew  back  his 
foot,  preparatory  to  kicking  the  presumptuous 
civilian  down  the  steps.  Before  the  movement 
could  be  executed,  the  man  leaned  forward  and 
uttered  two  words  in  a  low  voice.  The  orderly  sud- 
denly resumed  an  upright  attitude,  saluted  and  said, 
hurriedly : 


274  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"ril  inform  the  General  at  once,  sir." 

He  returned  a  moment  later  and  stood  at  atten- 
tion, saluted,  and  said,  "You  are  to  go  in  now,  sir." 

When  the  man  had  disappeared  behind  the  big 
oaken  door,  the  orderly  rubbed  his  chin  thought- 
fully and  muttered.  "What  the  devil — looks  more 
like  a  tramp."  But  the  effort  of  thinking  was  pain- 
ful, and  he  lapsed  into  his  usual  attitude,  staring 
stonily  into  the  street. 

Five,  ten,  twenty  minutes  went  by.  Officers  of 
high  rank  came  into  the  hall,  their  swords  clicking 
musically  on  the  stone  steps,  to  receive  the  informa- 
tion the  General  was  engaged  and  could  not  be  seen. 
An  hour  later,  the  door  opened  and  the  man  came 
out  again,  in  a  somewhat  more  presentable  shape 
than  when  he  went  in.  Now,  he  wore  a  hat,  and  a 
revolver  was  in  his  belt.  Over  his  shoulder  was 
slung  a  leathern  pouch  used  by  messengers  to  carry 
dispatches.  General  Wool  accompanied  him  to  the 
door. 

"I  trust  you'll  be  in  time,"  he  said,  with  great 
earnestness.  "We  were  fortunate  in  reaching  Stan- 
ton at  once.  The  wires  are  not  always  so  accommo- 
dating.   Have  you  a  good  horse  ?" 

"The  best  in  Virginia,  I'm  told." 

"Will  you  require  an  escort?" 


SECRET  SERVICE.  275 

"No,  sir.  That  would  detain  me.  I'll  ride  alone. 
Good-bye." 

He  ran  down  the  steps,  sprang  into  the  saddle, 
and  galloped  away.  The  horse,  a  bright  bay,  swept 
over  the  ground  with  a  long,  regular  stride,  going 
easily,  smoothly,  swiftly  as  a  swallow  flies.  Long 
of  body,  deep  of  chest,  narrow  of  flank,  with  slender, 
but  beautifully  shaped  legs,  there  was  a  noticeable 
harmony  between  horse  and  rider.  The  same  hint 
of  suppressed  force  in  the  square,  lean  shoulders,  the 
clean  limbs,  the  long,  big-veined  neck  reaching  for- 
ward eagerly.  The  man  stroked  the  mare's  black, 
glossy  mane,  speaking  words  of  encouragement. 

"Steady,  old  girl.  It's  a  good  eight-mile  brush, 
and  you  musn't  fail.  Remember,  it  is  for  her,  your 
mistress — Virginia." 

The  mare  tossed  her  head,  as  if  she  understood, 
and  went  forward  at  an  increased  pace.  Down  the 
long  driveway,  skirting  the  shore,  past  white  houses, 
half  hidden  in  running  vines,  by  green  lawns,  under 
spreading  shade  trees,  through  the  straight  streets 
of  military  camps,  by  Newport  News,  over  the  sand 
dunes,  splashing  through  the  ford,  and  then — the 
red  turrets  of  Waverley. 

"By  Jimtown !"  cried  the  rider,  suddenly  pulling 
up  the  mare  at  the  timber's  edge,  "may  I  never  see 
New  England  again,  if  that  isn't  Estelle  and  the 

18 


276  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Squire's  nigger  Joe.  Must  be  something  wrong. 
I  sent  her  back  to  Waverley  two  hours  ago.  What 
is  it,  girl  ?"  he  cried,  leaping  to  the  ground.  "Von 
Benzinger  up  to  any  new  devilment?" 

"Hamilton !"  exclaimed  Estelle,  greatly  excited. 

"Arrested,  I  suppose.  Don't  let  that  worry 
you,  I've  seen  Wool.    Hamilton's  all  right." 

"You  don't  know.  He  went  straight  from  the 
boat  to  Waverley,  found  them  preparing  to  shoot 
Virginia,  and  he — " 

"Killed  Von  Benzinger.  Of  course.  And  Vir- 
ginia ?" 

"The  officer  who  heard  Hamilton's  story  had 
them  both  locked  up.  They  are  going  to  have  an- 
other investigation.  It  all  happened  just  before  I 
got  back  after  giving  you  Bay  NelHe.  Seth  told  me 
about  it." 

"Von  Benzinger !  And  so  the  old  schemer  is  be- 
yond doing  any  more  harm  in  this  world,"  drawled 
Willis,  shaking  himself  into  his  old-time,  easy  ways. 
"Well,  that  makes  further  haste  unnecessary  on  our 
part,  Nellie."  The  correspondent  patted  the  mare. 
"Is  Captain  Geary  there?"  he  said,  again  address- 
ing Estelle. 

"Yes,  sir.  I  saw  him  crossing  the  yard  as  I  came 
away?  Oh,  Mr.  Willis,  do  you  think  Miss  Virginia 
will  forgive  me?     I  brought  all  this  on  her.     She 


SECRET  SERVICE.  277 

nevah  killed  Lafe,  I  knew  she  didn't.  He  took  her 
pistol  from  me." 

"Nobody  believes  her  guilty,"  said  Willis,  cheer- 
fully. "I've  got  Stanton's  order  for  her  release 
right  here.  Harlan — well,  he  fell  in  a  fair  fight.  By 
Jimtown !  you  shall  carry  this  bit  of  precious  paper 
to  Miss  Eggleston  yourself.  That'll  even  matters. 
I've  got  to  hunt  up  Colonel  Middleton,  he's  next  in 
command  after  Von  Benzinger,  and  get  Hamilton 
off." 

"And  am  I  really  to  take  the  pardon  to  Virginia?" 
cried  the  girl,  beaming  with  delight  at  the  prospect. 

"Surely.  Oh,  I  say,  where'd  you  run  across  the 
Squire's  property  ?  He  was  lost  about  a  year  ago  I 
remember." 

"Yesterday,"  corrected  Estelle. 

"So  it  was.    Seem's  longer.    Where  was  he?" 

"I  found  him  leading  a  horse  down  here  to  water 
just  before  you  came.  I  turned  the  horse  loose  and 
am  going  to  fetch  Joe  to  the  Squire." 

"Good.  Here's  a  note  to  Hamilton,  too.  I  sup- 
pose he  thinks  I'm  out  there  at  the  bottom  of  the 
pond.  There,  that'll  ease  his  mind  and  let  him  know 
I'm  after  orders  for  his  release.  Run  along  now, 
messenger  of  mercy !  Give  the  papers  to  Geary  and 
tell  him  I  said  you  were  to  deliver  them  in  person." 

"Oh,  Mr.  WilHs !" 


278  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

"Run  along;  whoa,  Nellie — no,  you  can't  go 
home  just  yet." 

The  correspondent  splashed  back  through  the 
ford  and  disappeared  over  the  rise.  And  up  the 
slope  to  Waverley,  hand  in  hand,  went  the  two 
young  slaves,  the  articulate  and  the  dumb,  bearing 
the  message  of  freedom. 

*  *  *  *  :K  :)c  :}: 

The  sun  was  casting  long  shadows  on  the  lawn 
at  Waverley,  when  Willis  rode  into  the  grounds, 
and  called  cheerily  to  Geary,  pacing  up  and  down 
the  gallery.  Seth  took  Bay  Nellie  to  the  stables, 
talking  volubly  to  the  tired  animal,  and  giving  her 
many  an  affectionate  stroke  with  his  wrinkled  hand. 
Willis  mounted  the  steps  and  received  the  Captain's 
hearty  congratulations  with  cool  indifference. 

'Too  thin  to  be  struck  by  a  shell  and  too  light 
to  sink,  that's  all,  Captain,"  he  drawled.  "Some  call 
it  Kismet.  How  are  your  prisoners?  All  right? 
Good.  Thought  my  news  would  prove  a  tonic. 
Wool  was  about  the  most  surprised  man  you  ever 
saw.  Entertained  me  in  my  shirt  sleeves.  We  kept 
the  wires  hot  to  Washington,  and  Stanton  grasped 
the  situation  wonderfully  for  a  man  not  on  the 
ground.    But  Hamilton  was  too  quick  for  me." 

"It  is  fortunate  he  was,"  said  Geary,  significantly, 
"otherwise  you  would  have  come  too  late." 


SECRET  SERVICE.  279 

Willis  shuddered.  "Don't,  Geary,"  he  said.  "The 
thought  gives  me  the  horrors.  There's  Wool's  or- 
der for  Hamilton's  release.    Where  is  he  ?" 

"In  the  library.    Lieutenant !"  called  Geary. 

Edwards  came  and  Geary  gave  the  required  or- 
ders to  take  the  guards  out  of  the  house,  and  also 
to  remove  the  headquarters  to  camp.  "I  can't  stay 
here,  Willis." 

"I  understand.  Captain,  and  respect  your  feel- 
ings. See  you  later.  I  must  shake  hands  with 
Earl." 

In  the  hall  he  met  Estelle,  happy  in  having  been 
readily  forgiven.  "You  might  tell  Miss  Eggleston 
there's  a  friend  of  hers  waiting  to  see  her  in  the 
library,"  he  said,  "and  also  suggest  to  Mrs.  Poyn- 
ter  that  a  Washington  co'espondent  might  have  a 
bit  of  interesting  gossip." 

A  moment  later  Hamilton  and  Willis  gripped 
each  other's  hands,  and  looked  each  other  in  the 
eyes.  What  they  thought  belongs  to  themselves. 
Whatever  it  was,  they  evidently  found  words  too 
cheap  to  tell  it.  Hamilton  threw  his  long  arm  over 
the  shoulder  of  his  friend  and  said,  slowly: 

"It's  all  right,  old  fellow.  I'll  never  forget  you, 
never." 

"I  wish  I  had  a  seegar,"  said  Willis,  with  more 
nervousness  than  he  had  ever  before  shown.  "Little 


280  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

bit  hurried  down  to  the  fort,  and  forgot  to  lay  in  a 
supply." 

"The  same  old  Willis,"  laughed  Hamilton.  Wil- 
lis joined  him  and  they  both  felt  better. 

"The  last  time  I  saw  you,  Willis,"  said  the  Lieu- 
tenant, a  little  later,  "I  thought  you  were  killed. 
God !"  The  memory  of  that  awful  moment  swept 
over  him,  and  he  turned  to  the  window  to  hide  his 
emotion. 

"  'Twas  close,"  said  Willis,  feigning  to  be  search- 
ing for  something  along  the  mantle.  "The  shell 
struck  the  boat  nearly  in  the  center,  and  spoiled 
it  completely.  When  I  came  up  later,  I  looked 
around  for  a  piece  of  the  wreck  big  enough  to  keep 
me  afloat,  for  I'm  not  exactly  a  duck  in  the  water — 
never  could  learn  to  swim  much.  But  there  wasn't 
a  piece  larger  than  my  hand  in  the  whole  district.  I 
paddled  around  as  best  I  could  in  my  soaked  clothes 
and  with  my  boots  full  of  water,  but  I  wouldn't 
have  lasted  long  had  not  a  merciful  wave  tossed 
me  a  half-burnt  spar  of  the  Congress.  I  managed 
to  tie  myself  to  that  with  my  neckerchief,  and  then 
took  it  as  easy  as  I  could.  Everybody  aboard  ship 
was  too  intent  on  the  fight  to  see  anything  else.  It 
was  near  high  tide,  and  I  was  carried  about  three 
miles  along  the  shore  toward  Newport  News.  Just 
when  I  was  getting  near  enough  the  point  to  begin 


SECRET  SERVICE.  281 

to  think  of  landing,  the  tide  turned,  and  back  I 
went  over  the  same  course.  The  Monitor  and  Mer- 
rimac  were  fighting  close  to  me  several  times,  but 
I  didn't  take  any  notes  of  the  fight." 

"How  did  you  finally  get  to  see  Wool?  Your 
note,  brought  by  Estelle,  said  you'd  been  to  the 
fort." 

"Oh,  I  got  ashore  at  last  somewhere  between 
Newport  News  and  Hampton,  but  I  was  so  com- 
pletely played  out  I  couldn't  undo  the  knot  in  my 
tie,  and  might  have  lain  there  till  this  time  but  for  a 
happy  circumstance." 

"Did  the  widow  come  to  your  rescue?"  laughed 
Earl. 

The  correspondent  colored  slightly,  but  replied  in 
the  same  old  drawl.  "No,  Estelle  came  riding  along 
on  Bay  Nellie,  going  to  the  fort  to  try  and  help 
Virginia.  She  saw  me,  released  me,  gave  me  the 
horse,  and  I  sent  her  back  to  Waverley  to  tell  them 
here  I  was  alive.  I  rode  to  the  fort,  water-soaked 
as  I  was,  and  got  insulted  by  an  orderly  standing 
guard  over  Wool.  But  the  General  was  gracious 
enough  to  take  me  in,  muddy  boots  and  all.  I 
showed  him  the  papers  about — " 

"You  little  black  runaway  nigger." 

"The   Squire   and   his   property,    by   Jimtown," 


282  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

laughed  Willis.  "I'll  conclude  the  story  some  other 
time." 

"Ef  I  evah  catch  yo'  holding  the  hoss  o'  one  o' 
these  heah  Yankee  encroachers  on  the  sacred  soil 
o'  the  Confederacy  an'  violatin'  the  constitution,  I'll 
hoss-whip  yo'  within  an  inch  o'  yo'  life,"  came  the 
voice  of  the  Squire. 

"Glorious!"  cried  Willis.  "Earl,  if  I  can  get  the 
Squire  and  that  boy  up  to  Washington,  I'h  make 
the  hit  of  my  life." 

"I  declare,  Squire,  if  you  haven't  found  your 
property!"  cried  Mrs.  Poynter,  descending  the 
steps  into  the  hall. 

Hamilton  bounded  out  to  her,  and  seized  her 
hands.    "How  is  Virginia?"  he  asked,  anxiously. 

"The  good  news  which  that  dear  angel,  Willis, 
has  been  showering  upon  us  has  braced  her  up  won- 
derfully," replied  Mrs.  Poynter.  "When  she  heard 
of  your  release,  she  got  up,  and  she's  coming  down 
to  see  you." 

A  great  wave  of  thankfulness  swept  over  Hamil- 
ton ;  for,  after  the  terrible  experience  of  that  after- 
noon, he  had  carried  Virginia,  unconscious  and 
deathly  white,  to  her  room.  There  Major  Cuthbert- 
son  had  given  directions  which  Black  Mammie  fol- 
lowed, with  tenderest  care,  and  Hamilton  had  been 
taken  to  the  library,  a  prisoner.     Now,  four  hours 


SECRET  SERVICE.  283 

later,  Mrs.  Poynter,  wishing  to  let  the  rescued  lov- 
ers meet  alone,  invented  an  errand  for  the  Squire. 
The  old  fellow  bowed  himself  out,  and  nearly  be- 
came cross-eyed  in  his  attempt  to  keep  one  eye  on 
Mrs.  Poynter  and  the  other  on  Joe.  Finally,  how- 
ever, he  departed,  devoting  both  eyes  and  his  elo- 
quent tongue  to  his  beloved  "property."  Then  the 
widow,  leaving  Hamilton  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
started  to  pass  through  the  sitting-room.  Seeing 
Willis,  she  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  held  out 
her  hands  to  him.  He  came  forward,  and  took 
them  in  his  own,  shook  them  awkv/ardly,  and  then 
looking  questioningly  about  the  room,  drawled, 
"You  don't  happen  to  know  the  whereabout  of  a 
seegar,  do  you,  Mrs.  Poynter?  I  forgot  to  lay  in 
a  supply  down  at  the  fort." 

"Come  with  me,"  said  the  widow,  the  warm  color 
sweeping  into  her  cheeks.  "But  you  arc  a  dear 
angel,  Waterloo,  and  a  great  good  fellow,  and  I'm 
going  to  tell  you  so  whether  you  want  me  to  or 
not." 

Half  an  hour  later.  Earl  and  Virginia  stepped  out 
upon  the  gallery.  The  sun  was  setting,  and  the 
western  sky  was  aglow  with  delicate  shades  of  gold 
and  amethyst  and  purple.  In  the  elm  tree,  down 
by  the  gate,  a  thrush  proclaimed  his  joy.  Over 
near   Fort   Monroe   a   pale   pillar   of   smoke   rose. 


284  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

slender  and  straight  in  the  quiet  air.  It  was  the 
Monitor  standing  guard  across  the  road  to  Wash- 
ington. 

Virginia,  still  very  weak,  leaned  upon  her  lover's 
arm,  and  oh,  how  welcome  its  support  after  her 
lonely  anguish !  "Think  of  it.  Earl,"  she  said,  "it 
was  only  yesterday — yesterday  noon — that  we  stood 
there  beneath  those  trees — and  I — "  she  paused,  and 
the  color  came  to  her  face. 

"And  you,"  he  said,  "spoke  words  that  echoed 
in  my  brain  amid  the  roar  of  battle.  I  hear  them 
still — those  words — 'I  love  you.  Earl' — so  sweet,  so 
wonderful  that  I  can  scarce  believe  them  now." 

"You  must  have  little  faith,"  she  said,  "if  you 
cannot  believe  them  now." 

"I  do  believe,  Virginia.  No  power  on  earth  can 
shake  my  faith,  after — after  all  you've  suffered  for 
my  sake." 

Her  pallor  came  again,  and  he  reproached  him- 
self bitterly  for  bringing  to  her  mind  those  dreadful 
memories.  But  she  looked  at  him  and  new 
thoughts  came  and  brought  her  color  back,  and 
then  she  spoke — her  voice  like  deepest  flute-notes, 
thrilled  with  love's  warmer  tones. 

"I  cannot  say  I  did  not  suffer.  I  suffered  things 
almost  unbearable — for  you,  my  Earl.  But  did  you 
not  suffer,  too — for  me  ?    You  offered  your  life  for 


SECRET  SERVICE.  285 

mine ;  you  guarded  me  with  splendid  strength,  and 
if  you  had  not  come,  I  would  be — not  here  with  you, 
dear  one.  But  listen — now  it  is  over,  now  I  am  here 
with  you,  I  say  it  is  worth  the  price.  For  this — for 
you  I'd  bear  it  all  again." 

"Dearest  Virginia,"  answered  he,  "a.  lifetime's 
happiness  can  hardly  pay  you  for  these  days.  The 
love  of  all  my  years  is  yours,  and  love  is  strong.  But 
if  I  am  so  blest  that  I  can  make  you  happy  all  your 
life,  I  still  shall  be  your  debtor — still  have  all  to 
pay." 

Her  steady  eyes  were  looking  into  his,  and  in 
their  depths  he  saw,  splendid  and  holy,  a  light  which 
was  her  soul  made  visible.  The  glory  passed  into 
his  heart,  the  hush  of  worship  came  upon  him,  and 
he  knew  that  here,  shining  in  a  woman's  eyes,  he 
beheld  what  men  call  God. 


286  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 


EPILOGUE. 


UNION. 


The  Maine  had  been  destroyed  in  Havana  Har- 
bor. North  and  South  had  sprung  to  arms.  In 
Dixie  and  in  Yankeeland  scores  of  regiments  were 
mobiUzing  to  fight,  not  each  other,  but  a  foreign 
foe.  The  North  Atlantic  squadron  had  drawn  its 
line  along  the  Cuban  coast ;  Dewey,  half  the  world 
away,  had  left  Mirs  Bay  to  find  and  destroy  the 
enemy's  vessels.  The  Flying  Squadron  lay  in 
Hampton  Roads,  ready  to  guard  our  coast  or  threat- 
en that  of  Spain. 

Commodore  Hamilton,  retired  now  from  active 
service,  sat  late  one  afternoon  in  April  on  the  gal- 
lery at  Waverley,  looking  down  upon  the  scene  of 
the  first  great  sea  fight  between  iron  ships. 

Instead  of  the  tents  of  Camp  Butler,  rose  the 
roofs  of  Newport  News,  where  deep-sea  freighters 
came  for  grain,  where  locomotives  pulled  and 
pushed  their  cars  of  coal,  and  flying  electric  cars 


UNION.  287 

carried  tourists  to  the  great  hotels,  and  Hampton, 
and  the  fort.  Down  there  on  the  shore  where  so 
long  ago  fool  infantrymen  had  shot  spit-balls  at  the 
Hippopotamus,  hundreds  of  men  were  laying  the 
foundations  of  the  greatest  ship-yard  in  the  world. 
Up  at  the  fort  they  were  planting  the  disappearing 
guns,  and  there  was  talk  of  tearing  down  the  great 
hotels. 

Instead  of  the  frigates  Minnesota  and  Roanoke 
and  St.  Lawrence,  lay  the  cruiser  Brooklyn,  with 
her  lofty  smokestacks,  the  great,  turreted  battle- 
ships, Texas  and  Massachusetts,  and  the  low  ram, 
Katahdin.  There  were  the  rusted  monitors  of  long 
ago,  manned  now  by  naval  militia,  and  a  host  of 
lesser  ships — the  Sterling,  Saturn,  Scorpion  and  Co- 
lumbia. 

A  sweet-faced  lady  with  beautiful  white  hair  came 
out  of  the  house  and  joined  the  Commodore. 

"Virginia,  dear,"  he  said,  pointing  to  one  of  the 
smaller  vessels,  "there  is  the  Merrimac." 

"The  Merrimac!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
looking  around  as  though  she  expected  to  see  a 
phantom  ship.    "Are  you  dreaming,  dear  boy?" 

"No.  The  name  which  once  struck  terror  to  the 
nation's  heart  is  borne  now  by  yonder  inglorious 
collier — the  truckster  of  the  fleet.  'To  what  base 
uses  may  we  not  descend !'    The  Merrimac  a  col- 


288  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS. 

Her,  the  monitors  full  of  land  lubbers,  and  I  an  old 
hulk  here  ashore,  while  the  youngsters,  Waterloo 
and  Earl  Junior,  sail  off  to  thrash  the  Dons." 

"Is  the  haven  so  unwelcome?"  asked  the  Com- 
modore's wife. 

"The  best  any  man  ever  had,"  he  said,  with  deep 
sincerity. 

"Two  sons  who  wear  the  blue  should  prove  this 
rebel  reconstructed,  Earl." 

"They  will  fight  well,  Virginia  girl.  They  are 
your  sons." 

The  lady's  face  grew  solemn  as  she  remembered 
how  their  father  fought  one  day  long  years  ago. 

The  Commodore  was  eyeing  the  huge  bulk  of  the 
Massachusetts. 

"The  old  Merrimac  is  scrap  iron  and  ashes  now," 
he  mused,  "beneath  the  sea,  the  old  Monitor  lies  on 
the  tie-ribs  of  earth,  where  the  blind  white  sea 
snakes  are.  But  look,  Virginia,  yonder  Massachu- 
setts— a  floating  iron  fortress,  turret-crowned — 
what  is  she  but  the  Monitor  upon  the  Merrimac — 
the  vessels  of  the  North  and  South  made  one  ?" 


THE  END. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
82 


